Are We There Yet?
by Livi2Jack
Summary: Battlestar Galactica meets Stargate Atlantis,while Jack O’Neill is in command. How would the first contact work out? What is the secret Galactica doesn't know? The best laid plans oft go astray.Feedback please.
1. Chapter 1: Sorting It Out

**Are We There Yet?**

**By Livi2Jack**

**Summary:** Battlestar Galactica meets Stargate Atlantis while Jack O'Neill is in command. How would the first contact work out?

**Category**: Crossover/AU, Het only

**Rating**: Teen for some language and episode level violence

**Spoilers **for Seasons 3 of Atlantis and BSG

**Season**: Eleven+ for Stargate SG-1 AU, For BSG after season two –This is a Season Three AU

**Characters:**

Stargate's Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, Teal'c, Cameron Mitchell, John Sheppard, Weir, McKay, Beckett, Teyla, Ronon, Woolsey, Landry, Caldwell, Major Lorne, Thor.

BSG's: Admiral Wm Adama, Apollo, Starbuck, Col. Tigh, Pres. Roslin, Lt. Gaeta, Lt. Dualla, Cally, Tyrol, Helo, Athena, Six, Baltar, Zarek as VP, Anders, bridge crew.

**Pairings:** None other than as canon because some of the BSG folks are married. I don't write S/J.

**Author's note**: This is AU. If you are a stickler for canon, give me a break. Jack isn't in charge of Atlantis. BSG is another show. And Starbuck is a woman. **_THAT's _**AU. I have done the situation and characters according to my view of the shows and how they would meld. I've read Ron Moore's podcasts, many articles, as well as the transcripts. This is my take on it. The new ZPM came from either the recently found Ancients or stolen from the Asurans. Whatever. They have one now. Apollo is a Major and the Pegasus still exists. Baltar's status is as of the end of Season Three. This is my AU story.

**DISCLAIMER:** "Stargate SG-1/Atlantis" and its characters are the property of Sony Pictures, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp., Showtime/Viacom and USA Networks, Inc. BSG is the property of Ron Moore and others. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are the property of the author(s), and may not be republished or archived elsewhere without the author's permission.

* * *

"Closing on us fast, sir," the Tactical Officer reported to Admiral Adama. "The speed is incredible."

"Launch Vipers. Start jump calculations." Adama looked up with a stoic visage at his bridge crew. One thing you could say for Admiral William Adama, he never cracked. No matter what the Cylons threw at him, he never broke a sweat.

"Viper squadrons away, sir."

"Call Pegasus, let Major Adama know."

"Major Adama on line now sir, for you," reported Lt. Felix Gaeta, Officer of the Watch.

"Lee, we'll feed you the jump calculations."

"Rodger that, sir. We have advised the fleet." Major Lee Adama, aka Apollo, was the Admiral's son. He had been the CAG on the Galactica when the Pegasus needed a new commander that Adama could trust. At times in the past, Lee had stood against Adama's decisions. Finally the two reached a professional accommodation. The two men were uncomfortable on a personal level but were professionals to the core.

"Sir, these are not Cylon ships. Sensors can't match them to any known configuration. So unless the Cylons have something new…" the Tac Officer trailed off.

"You get that, Lee?"

"Yes, sir. We're on it."

The Pegasus was a new model of the Galactica's class of ships. Her on board navigation and sensor arrays were next generation equipment, yet for strategic reasons relied on old-style electronics with cords to prevent Cylon tampering. Both Battlestars were old, and they were the last of their kind. As far as anyone in the fleet knew, the few remaining human beings in the universe were about to be attacked once more.

After the destruction of the Twelve Colonies by the Cylons, a cybernetic race of robots, the human survivors took to space in whatever craft were available. At last count, slightly less than 40,000 persons remained after the aborted attempt to build a new colony. The Cylons showed up on New Caprica to occupy it and enslave the humans for what purposes could only be guessed. After two years, the fleet was together again thanks to the New Caprica Resistance Movement. The Resistance Movement on the planet along with a strategic attack from the two remaining Battlestars, managed to create a window of opportunity to launch all remaining ships on the planet with as many survivors as possible. So many had died on the planet, a census had to be taken. The sojourn on New Caprica had been a disastrous experiment, which lost 20 percent of the original survivors.

On the run again, supplies were low. Adama ordered food rationing. But only the Admiral, Major Lee Adama, Colonel Saul Tigh, and Captain Kara Thrace, the CAG, knew just how low on ordnance they were. Worse, their fuel supply was dwindling as their last remaining supply of Tyllium ore was being refined for use. When the refined ore was gone, so was the fuel. They had to find more. In short, time was running out.

With a supreme effort, they made it across the galactic void to this new galaxy. They gambled the Cylons would not follow. However, their luck was running out. A new formidable enemy had just appeared. Two enormous ships of unknown design were launching an attack without as much as a hail. Obviously, the welcome wagon was on strike.

Chatter between the Viper fighters and the CIC (bridge) personnel indicated a new highly advanced foe was sure to overwhelm the fleet. The missiles launched by the Vipers had no effect. Some sort of protection threw off the collision between the ships and Colonial weapons fire.

"Frak! Did you see that?" demanded the new CAG, one Captain Kara Thrace, aka Starbuck for her call sign. "Galactica, the enemy just disintegrated one of our ships. I mean no wreckage, nothing. It's just gone, sir. Weapons fire of no use. Your orders, sir?"

"Break off and return to launch bay. We are preparing to jump," came the reply from the bridge.

"All Vipers, let's go home. We can't do anything out here. That's an order."

Even as the squadrons retreated a few were picked off by the new enemy. The engagement had lasted only a few minutes. It was a total rout. As the CAG, Starbuck was the last to go home, escorting a damaged Viper. Checking out her window to assess the situation, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. With the instincts for which she was infamous, Starbuck flipped her craft to face backwards and get a good view.

What she saw made her gasp. Several other enormous ships not seen before were firing on the enemy. Some sort of missiles took flight and disappeared. Nearly instantly, the enemy ships blew apart.

"Incredible, Galactica we have new bogeys blasting away at the first group. They came out of nowhere. Galactica do you read? I'm going back for a better look. If these guys can take out the first group, we could be in worse trouble."

"Negative, Starbuck. Return to Galactica. We are going to jump."

"Damn it, she's going back, isn't she?" Colonel Tigh swore under his breath.

"That woman has a death wish," Admiral Adama huffed. "Starbuck this is Galactica. Return to the Pegasus. She's closer. We are going to jump. Saying again, we are going to jump."

"Galactica, this is Starbuck. The new guys are blowing the frak out of the first group. One of their fighters just ripped past me and took out a hostile."

"Did she just say one of the new ones helped her?" Tigh was amazed but irritated at Starbuck. He usually was. He thought she was a loose canon. She despised him for being a drunk.

"I don't care. We can't afford to lose the fleet finding out." Adama spoke his orders again. "Starbuck, this is Adama, break off and get to the Pegasus, Now!"

"No sir, two more new guys just came level with me and waved. One of them is wiggling his wings at me, sir. Repeat, being escorted now by two of the new guys." She paused. After some static the bridge heard her say, "My new escort just blew the crap out of an attacker. They are protecting me!"

Explosions ripped through another enemy ship which disappeared into some sort of an anomaly. The rest of the ships that could did the same thing.

"Sir, enemy has jumped." Starbuck frantically called the Galactica. "Repeat, the first group has jumped."

"We read that, Starbuck. What's your situation?"

"Being surrounded by the new guys," reported Starbuck. "But I think they are friendlies. At least they aren't firing on me. And one keeps wiggling his wings. That's the usual greeting between pilots, at least with us."

"You _THINK_?" Adama looked aggravated. He had to make a decision. "Try and bring one on board, then we jump. We can always come back if they are friendlies. You have just enough time before we jump."

"Throwing out the welcome mat, sir."

"What do you think, Saul?" Adama turned to his 2IC. Saul had good instincts. The two men had worked together for much of their careers. Saul shrugged.

"What are the remaining large ships doing? Are we getting any hails?"

"We seem to get some sort of regular signal, but we haven't managed to understand it. The new mother ships are keeping their distance. No more fighters have been launched. The others seem to be mopping up," Dee reported.

"We take a chance. We're nearly finished if this place doesn't work out," he growled softly to Adama.

"Repeat back to them their signal. I'm guessing that's a hail." Adama waited until Dee was finished. "Mr. Gaeta, are the fighters following Starbuck?"

"Yes, sir, they are flying in formation, matching her speed and vector."

Colonel Tigh looked at Adama. They rarely had to exchange words in these situations. Colonel Tigh checked with the "Flattop" salvage and repair ship where the group was to be directed. He wanted to be certain the alien craft were isolated from the rest of the fleet. The best place to dock them was on the flat launch pad of the repair ship. Tigh ordered a brigade of Marines to the flight deck and the repair teams to be ready to deal with damage caused by the alien ships and their pilots. No sense taking more risk than they were already. He heard Dee alerting Apollo, captain of the Pegasus that Starbuck was diverting to the Flattop.

Adama waited patiently for the outcome. Even as Starbuck and the new fighters landed on the Flattop, the fleet began to jump. One by one they winked out, only to reappear elsewhere a moment later. They all breathed a sigh of relief. No more ships had taken damage. The fleet began the standard roll call check for damage and casualties. Even so, the crew on the Galactica's bridge was collectively holding their breaths for news from the Flattop.

On board the Flattop, the Marines took up their battle stations. Four of the new birds had come to a stop. Canopies were opening. Starbuck extracted herself from her Viper leaving it for the flight crews. The Marines gave her their signs of being ready. So she unsheathed her side arm, slowly walking up to the first craft. Starbuck looked up at the cockpit.

The pilot looked at her from inside his helmet. He hesitated and then began to unmask. Kara blinked. He looked human. Both she and the pilot gave each other the once over. Satisfied no one made any threatening moves, the pilot unhitched himself, but remained seated.

"And you are," he asked?

"Oh, wow you know my language?" Kara was amazed. They were in a totally different galaxy and the natives spoke Colonial?

"No, not really, you just think I do. Now, who are you people?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Some welcome you got going here." He indicated the Marines pointing their weapons at him. "We just saved your ass. Ok, I'll go first. I'm Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell of the Earth Ship Daedalus. And now, for the 64 dollar question, who the hell are you, ma'am?"

For once in her life, Starbuck was dumbstruck. Standing there gaping, Cam realized he had said something wrong. He unsheathed his service pistol from its casing strapped to his flight suit, holding it out of sight inside the cockpit.

"Now it's your turn, ma'am."

"Oh, oh, right, sorry. I'm Captain Kara Thrace of the Colonial Fleet."

"Colonial?"

"I have to ask, are you human?"

"So my grandma keeps wondering, yes ma'am. I am assuming you are too?"

Kara nodded, "yes, at least my grandma told me I was."

"You haven't told me what your people are doing here and why all the heavy ordnance. We did take the risk of coming here to have this little chat."

"We can explain elsewhere. We won't shoot if you won't shoot. Deal?"

Cam thought it over. "Deal. I was feeling cramped in here anyway."

Starbuck signaled for the flight crews to bring ladders to help the pilots out of their cockpits. Each man carefully exited making certain to keep his hands visible at all times. Standing at the base of his plane, Mitchell offered Starbuck his hand. She looked at it, hesitating.

"I promise I don't bite." He used his charming smile. Kara eyed him carefully. Then she took it. Applause broke out on the deck. Listening to the exchange on the video feed, both the Pegasus and the Galactica bridge crews breathed a sigh of relief and broke into applause.

"It's going to be a long de-briefing isn't it," Cam joked?

"You could say," she replied answering his grin with her own smile.

The Marines advanced demanding all weapons be relinquished. Cam gave his side arm to Starbuck.

"I'll want that back, ma'am."

She nodded.

* * *

**Daedalus:**

On board the Daedalus, Colonel Steven Caldwell exclaimed, "you've got to be kidding me!"

"They just disappeared, sir."

"We just saved their asses and they cut and ran?"

"Seems likely, sir."

"Four of our F-302s were last seen approaching one of the two capital ships. Sir, we are not getting a response to our hails to Colonel Mitchell's squad."

"What are you saying, Major? Did they destroy our ships?"

"No signs of debris, sir. They vanished too," reported Major Gant.

"Let's hope they went with those guys," the helmsman opined.

"Why? Ever consider how they would get back?" Caldwell was not happy about this.

"Stargates, sir, would be my guess."

"Alright, give me the numbers."

"Other than Colonel Mitchell's squad, all our ships are present and accounted for. There are reports of minimal damage to several F-302s and one of our Al'kesh. The Al'kesh is still under its own power and is requesting permission to head back to Atlantis."

"Clear them to go and let's see about getting the hell out of here ourselves."

"Sir, what about Colonel Mitchell?"

"What do you expect me to do, get a crystal ball? If he is ok, and can use a Stargate, we will hear from him."

"Sir, the Borodino is reporting they have captured two of the pilots and one of their craft from the defenders. They are both in Sick Bay receiving treatments. One is awake. Your orders, sir?"

"Get me Commander Orlov," Caldwell replied. The new Odyssey was commanded by the Russians as part of the Gate Alliance Treaty. Having been supportive allies, they were coming into their own, demanding to share in the action.

"Commander Orlov, sir."

"What did you find out, Commander?"

"The pilot says they are humans escaping from a terrible robot enemy. He's shaken, not stirred." Orlov loved to reference old James Bond movies. Caldwell rolled his eyes and waited patiently. Orlov was a professional. He knew what to do. "Anyway, when we told him his ships disappeared he was happy until I told him four of ours most probably went with them. He understands we would like them back."

Orlov had a gift for understatement. He didn't flinch at very much. Caldwell respected him. The two had a mutual if uneasy working relationship. Both men had come of age during the Cold War when Russia and the United States were enemies. It was difficult to let these things go. But they were working at it, on some level.

"What are the odds, Commander?"

"The pilot says very good. If our personnel are friendlies, then once that determination is made, the fleet could return here, or some part of the fleet. But they had civilians they had to protect. That was their first priority not knowing if we would turn on them next."

"Ok, makes sense. Can we contact them?"

"He says there is no known way to track what he terms a 'jump.' And he doesn't know the coordinates just being an ordinary pilot."

Caldwell commed Hermiod. The Asgaard crewmember worked in engineering to assist with all the Asgaard installed equipment the humans could not handle. Caldwell wanted to find out if the Asgaard knew a way to track the other fleet. The answer was not with the equipment on hand.

"Commander, leave a cloaked puddle jumper for 24 hours just in case they do return. Let's go home, Caldwell out."

* * *

**Colonial Ship The Flattop:**

On the Colonial ship, Cam Mitchell took in what he could as some hulking guards escorted him to a nearby briefing room. The interior of the ship was depressing. No color other than muted greys, blacks, and whites decorated the ship. It seemed old. He couldn't explain why he had that feeling, but he was sure of it. It even had that stale smell that reeked of 'old.'

Entering the room, Cam saw a table with some Spartan chairs, no decorations, and not much else of note. Either they stripped it so he wouldn't see anything, or they didn't have anything. From the grim looks on the faces in the hall, these folks were not happy campers. Cam guessed they didn't have much.

Starbuck indicated the chairs and took one herself. Armed guards stood watch outside the room. Cam approved of their caution, although he was making mental notes how to get out if he needed. The other three pilots sat as well. As the ranking officer and squadron leader, Cam did the talking. He figured whoever was in charge was listening in.

Presently, a man introduced as a doctor entered the room with an assistant and some equipment. Reflexively, every man rolled up his sleeve. Starbuck noticed with some amusement. It was not something the Cylons would have done so quickly without being asked. Cam gave her a bored expression. He was trying to read her as she was trying to read him. Judging by the needles and so forth, Cam figured these folks were at or near Earth's level of development but without the Asgaard technology. He knew sensor readings indicated these folks had pitched a few nukes at the enemy. That they had space travel was a good sign.

"I see you've done this before," Starbuck commented evenly.

"Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, ma'am." Cam rolled his sleeve back down and let the doctor listen to his heart. Looking up at the man, he joked, "oh, it's in there somewhere. Although, my last girlfriend said I didn't have one." One of Cam's pilots snorted at that comment. But Starbuck maintained a professional demeanor even though she appreciated the humor.

The doctor went through as much of a check as he could not being in the medical bay. He faced Starbuck saying, "as good as I can. I'd say they are human subject to the blood tests. Heart, lungs, all in the right places doing their jobs. I'll call you with the results."

"That's what they all say, but you generally have to call them," Cam snarked back at him. "What, 'no take two aspirins and call me in the morning?' I want to know my cholesterol numbers, those triglycerides are nasty stuff," he called after the doctor's retreating back. Cam turned his attention back to the woman. "And now what? You interrogate us without even offering a cup of coffee?"

Starbuck understood he was being sarcastic but she didn't recognize some of the words. "Coffee?"

"A hot beverage made from roasted beans," he replied noting that she made a face. "Don't knock it until you've tried it, ma'am."

"I'm sure." She looked over to the sentry, "bring in some refreshments." Turning back to Mitchell she asked, "You happy now?"

"Happy enough for the moment," he answered deadpan. "So you're the warm up band for this interrogation. We got that. Can we skip along to the part where you tell us something about you?"

"I'm single, looking, and a pilot," Starbuck snarked back.

"What a coincidence. I'm single, good looking, and a great pilot." He answered in a friendly tone, but his observant eyes were looking for anything that could become a weapon. So far the only objects were the chairs and their legs if they could be broken. The table was metal and too heavy to break.

Listening on the bridge of the Galactica, Colonel Tigh rolled his eye and made sure Adama saw him do it. Adama gave him a look of 'listen she'll get it out of them.' At least the doctor was sure they were human as claimed. Cylons also had blood, which was very difficult to distinguish from human blood. However, reports from the flight deck while preliminary indicated that everything in the F-302s was more advanced than the Vipers, but was nothing like Cylon manufacturing. There was nothing organic in them.

At least these folks were polite, thought Major Apollo, watching from the bridge of the Pegasus. If they were human, then these could be the people from Earth. He had heard Mitchell identify himself with the word Earth in there. Apollo had replayed the remark several times to be sure. Of course, it could be a Cylon trick, but nothing about these folks suggested they were Cylons. What he didn't like was the remark about how Starbuck only thought she heard him speak Colonial. Before the briefing, he had commented as much to the Admiral who agreed it was interestingly phrased. Were these persons another form of Cylon who had some translation program? Apollo had no doubt that Starbuck had heard the remark and was curious too.

"Now what did you mean when you said I only thought I heard you speak in my language?"

"It meant you only thought you heard me speak in your language." He gazed back at her. "Can we please just skip ahead to where you tell me what you people are doing here?"

"Here?"

"Here."

"Define here."

"In this galaxy, in this star system, fighting the Wraith, getting your asses kicked from here to hell… pick one."

"We were fighting the 'Wraith' because they attacked us. We had no warning. They showed up and opened fire. Got any ideas why they would do that?"

"I might." Mitchell sighed. "Fine, you obviously don't know about the Wraith or you wouldn't ask that question. It's what they do."

"Open fire on other ships before they even talk to them?"

"Pretty much, yep, that's about it."

"Maybe they thought we were you. Maybe they thought they needed to kick our asses to hell because of you."

"Maybe, but more likely they were just hungry, looking for a snack."

"What?"

"The Wraith eat humans. We are their food. Go figure."

"Yum, yum," intoned one of the other pilots.

"We're finger licking good," said another pilot.

"That's a good one. I'll have to remember it," answer the fourth.

"You're joking." Starbuck wasn't going to be taken in by such a wild claim.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Cam pointed to his deadpan face. Starbuck looked at the other pilots who were nodding their heads in agreement. One of them shrugged at her indicating that was the truth.

"They eat humans." She looked from one to the other to the other.

"They actually suck the life force out of us with their hands. It's complicated and very painful, for the human. The Wraith have a good time, though." Heads bobbed in agreement.

"As long as somebody does," Starbuck was doubtful. This was too weird. "I don't believe you. I would advise you to start cooperating. We can do this the easy way or the hard way it's all the same to me."

"My, oh my, we already skipped way, way ahead to the threats." Mitchell didn't like this turn of conversation. "We're done talking to you. Bring in the next act, someone who is farther up the food chain." He sat back and folded his arms.

"Sorry, you're stuck with me." Starbuck leaned in. "Now about your remark that I only think you speak Colonial. I understand you just fine. What did you mean by it?"

None of the pilots would answer her. One stared at the ceiling. Another fiddled with his fingernails. One started to whistle 'Dixie.' The first two grinned at the joke. But Cam leaned back and pretended to close his eyes. Actually, he was trying to figure out if they could crawl through the air vents and decided someone much smaller would have to try. Several minutes passed while Starbuck waited to let them understand she wasn't leaving.

"Fine, what did you mean by saying you are from the 'Earth ship Daedalus?' What does Daedalus mean to you?" She got no reply. "Is Earth your homeworld?" Nothing. "What were the weapons you used against these 'Wraith'? Were they some kind of nuke?"

No one answered.

Watching the feed on the bridge of the Galactica, Adama looked at Tigh. Both men knew such information warranted a more senior person to interview these men. If the fleet really faced that level of threat, someone had to go over there. By then, the fleet had already jumped out of immediate danger. Adama decided on sending Apollo as his representative, along with another Marine contingent.

In the interrogation room, Starbuck stared patiently at the alien pilots. Fine, she figured they could sit there and wait all day if that's what it took. They hadn't done anything threatening, so physical force was unwarranted. Refreshments arrived but no one partook. At this point, each pilot figured the food was laced with drugs.

Finally after some interval, the door flung open. Major Apollo walked in escorted by two bodyguards. Starbuck and the marines came to attention. If there were aliens out to eat humans, he had to understand the threat, quickly.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," pointed Mitchell to Apollo. "I take it you are her superior?"

"Major Lee Adama, Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell was it?"

"You go to the head of the class." Mitchell saw the confusion. "Yes, sir, I am."

"We have to be sure you are not our enemy, so we have taken these precautions. You would do the same. "I'm the captain of the Colonial Battlestar Pegasus. Am I senior enough for you?" Apollo offered his hand. Mitchell thought about it, and accepted.

"What a coincidence."

"How so?"

"We call this galaxy the 'Pegasus' Galaxy."

"That is a coincidence. We recognize the names 'Daedalus' and 'Pegasus.' Do the names have meaning for you or is it just random?"

"If I remember my ancient mythology correctly, Daedalus tried to fly with his son, Icarus, who did not listen to dear old dad and got too close to the sun. The wax on Icarus' wings melted and he fell like a stone. Daddy Daedalus made it to land and built a temple to the Greek god Apollo, hanging up his wings as an offering. Pegasus was a winged horse that could fly to the top of Mt. Olympus where the ancient Greek gods lived. Does that do it for you?"

Apollo stood there stunned. It showed on his face and on Starbuck's. In fact the guards were having trouble with it too, shifting a bit though remaining at attention. Catching himself, Apollo said, "Perhaps, I should mention that as a pilot, my call sign is Apollo for the god who lived on Mt. Olympus. How is it you know these things?"

Mitchell shrugged, "my grandma liked to read me those myths for bedtime stories. She had a wicked sense of humor to do that to a kid."

"You said the word, 'Earth.' Is that your homeworld?"

"Now why should I tell you anymore than I have? We save your butts from the Wraith. We came here honorably. And yet, we are interrogated and threatened. I don't see what's in it for us. We trusted you. And this is the thanks we get, a nasty interrogation room? I want to speak to my ship. They'll be worried about us. After that maybe, and I say maybe, I'll discuss answering more questions."

"I understand. I won't apologize for detaining you here. You would do the exact same thing in our position, sir. Lt. Colonel, I remind you that no one has raised a hand against you. Please, calm down, sir."

"Oh so now it's 'sir.' Cam gave him an appraising glance. "So let me talk to my people. Then, I might calm down."

"That's a problem. We aren't in that sector anymore. We are too far for our communications to work." Apollo looked uncomfortable. He saw Mitchell get irritated at what he thought was deception. "I am not lying to you. We had to move the fleet to safety. We are escorting civilians."

"Escorting them to where," Mitchell demanded?

"Earth."

Mitchell stared at the man looking for signs of deception. Clearly he was affected by the conversation. But Cam didn't sense any deception.

"Earth." Mitchell evaluated the Major. He looked like a straight shooter. "That's a problem. Who is your superior? We need to talk."

"Lt. Colonel, first answer me. Are you from Earth?"

"Yes, Major we are."

"Please, follow me, Lt. Colonel. In the meantime, your team will be given better accommodations in our lounge." He turned to one of the guards. "See that they are made comfortable."

"Yes, sir."

"Starbuck you are with me."

From the Captain's office, Apollo placed the call to his father on the Galactica. After a few moments of conference, Adama decided to have Mitchell meet him in person. Apollo detailed Starbuck to fly them over. A Raptor shuttle with the three of them and two guards departed for the Galactica. Within minutes, they were on the other ship headed for the Admiral's briefing room. A Marine brigade escorted them.

Taking it all in, Mitchell had the sense that this ship was even older and had seen more use that the previous one. These people's decorating sense was 'early grim verging on medieval depressing.' What did that say about their culture? The Admiral's briefing room was more comfortable but hardly attractive.

Adama took in the appearance of their visitor. He too looked for signs of deception. Finding nothing but a professional officer, he offered Mitchell a seat. Mitchell was impressed by the gravitas of the Admiral. His wizened features told a tale of a long career and much suffering. After they finished sizing each other up, Adama began gently.

"We want to thank you for what your people did back there for us. You didn't know us and still risked your lives for ours. We are grateful." He nodded in acknowledgment. Mitchell accepted the same. "We have suffered a catastrophe that ended our civilization. As a result, we are vulnerable. Presently, we are escorting a large civilian fleet. Our priority is to find a safe harbor for our people."

Adama paused, studying the alien. "To do that, we are looking for a specific planet. It is a place told in legends through the ages. We didn't really believe it existed until you said you were from the 'Earth Ship Daedalus' and told the story of Daedalus and Pegasus, as we know it too. We believe that the people on Earth are our brethren. This Earth colony was established thousands of years ago. But we became separated. It was lost to us. If you are really from Earth, then you are the answer to our prayers."

Mitchell took a few moments to compose his reply. Then he began softly.

"Admiral, thank you for treating me with the courtesy of a face to face meeting. It is much appreciated," Cam looked him straight in the eye. "I'm a military man, as you are. Giving up information does not come easily. Obviously, you heard me introduce myself in the landing bay. You heard correctly. I am from Earth."

Sighs went around the table. Adama took off his eyeglasses and rubbed his eyes to cover the emotion he felt. Mitchell could tell these people had felt terrible anguish that it might not be true. So he pressed on.

"Sir, I must know before I continue. How many civilians and how large of a fleet do you have?"

"That's good. You are doing a threat assessment. I would do the same. Lt. Colonel. I too must conduct a threat assessment. We saw what you did to these 'Wraith' as you call them. Your capabilities are astonishing. As to our numbers, let's say in round numbers we have thousands of civilians, plus escort." Adama spoke sternly, "We are prepared to defend ourselves." He let Mitchell digest the information for a few moments. "Their safety is my number one priority."

"Thank you, sir. May I ask what happened that you are out here searching like this?"

Adama deliberated whether to chance the truth. Well the man wasn't going anywhere so fast. If Mitchell didn't seem to be honorable, he could take a long walk out a short airlock. But things were desperate. Adama sighed and told him the sad story. Mitchell was visibly affected.

"Then, sir, you have found the right people." He took a breath, "but you cannot go to Earth." As he expected, they reacted with alarm. "As least not the whole group right away."

"You are from Earth but you say we cannot go there?"

"Sir, I can't speak for my leaders entirely. Perhaps when you speak with them, you will find a way to solve this situation."

"You would allow me to speak to the leaders of Earth?"

"I have no doubt that in the next few days, you will, sir."

Adama was shaken. To think that the end of the voyage was here was almost too much. Everyone in the room was feeling overwhelmed.

"We are that close to Earth that we could be there in just a few days?"

"No, sir. You are nowhere near Earth. You are in the wrong galaxy, entirely."

Groans of disappointment came from the assembly.

"Admiral, we have a way of getting you there, provided they agree to host you instead of coming here to see you."

"Now I am intrigued. I confess seeing your fleet in battle was most impressive. But going to another Galaxy in days? I don't understand how you can take me so far so quickly, nor even understand what you are doing here in another galaxy."

"Don't worry about that, sir. Just accept for now that it is true. As to what we are doing here, we are exploring. That's what we do. We explore."

"You, you go to other galaxies to explore, just to explore?"

"Pretty much, yes sir." Cam grinned.

"Why can't we go to Earth from here is that?"

"It's a political problem you should take up with my superiors."

"I see. Well it is good to know some things are the same."

"Yes, sir. So when you talk to our leaders, perhaps you can solve it at that level. What I can do is introduce you to our local leaders right here in Pegasus. Major Apollo tells me that you have moved to a new location since the battle. I must report in, sir. You would want to do the same."

"I'm afraid we are too far to use our communications. And, I don't want to go back to the site of the battle lest the enemy, these Wraiths, reappear for whatever reason they appeared in the first place." Adama took a breath, "You are serious. Wraith feed on humans?"

"Yes, sir, we are their only source of food. Right now, they are out there in the beginning of their feeding cycle which comes every few hundred years. Recently, the Wraith have wiped out whole planets."

"Oh my…" Adama was at a loss for words. "To have come so far just to walk into another pit."

"Sir, I have the solution, if you will hear me out."

"Go on."

"I would need you to authorize one of your ships to make a 'jump' as you call it back to the previous coordinates. I nearly guarantee that we left a ship there waiting to see if you reappear. I don't know how long they will stay, but it's not been so long yet. If they are not there, there is a way to get to my base from there. I assume your ship can jump back here?"

"Yes, it can. But, I'm afraid I don't want to risk even one craft if I don't have to."

"The Wraith could be here too, sir. They inhabit this entire galaxy. The longer you keep me from reporting in, the greater your chances of being discovered somewhere we can't defend you.

It goes like this. I have to know where I am in order to return there. I don't know where I am here, sir. I knew back at the battle site. I can't bring help to you unless I can get back to my first position. If you send me with someone in one of your ships that can jump there and back here we have a chance."

Cam paused to let that fact sink in. Cam knew the probability of having a Stargate nearby was high. He hoped it was not an orbital Stargate or he would have to try another planet. An F-302 does not fit inside a Stargate. Cam continued after Adama's nod.

"I could lie to you and tell you if I left from here I would come back. But the truth is while I can get home from here, I have no way to identify where here is from that end. If I left from here, I wouldn't know where to come back. Do you see the problem?"

Adama thought that over a couple of times. It almost made sense. But how could such a little ship make a jump? Still, they were more advanced.

"And your people would defend us again?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"Because you are human beings, sir, and they are the Wraith."

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple. We don't leave our people behind."

Adama studied the man intently. That part made sense. His people had defended the fleet once. They might do it again. But what would they want in return?"

"Interesting choice of words, 'our people,' did you mean that to include us?" Cam nodded yes. "And if we ask for your protection, safe harbor, what would become of us?"

"You will get on with your lives on a new planet, maybe even the one we are on right now." Cam realized something. "In fact, you will most likely come to stay with us because we have no other means to house so many or take care of you."

"If we stay with you, then what?"

"I don't understand, sir."

"Would you want us to work for you, or be your servants, or might we become your slaves?"

"Oh god, no, we don't think like that. We don't permit slavery of any kind. If I have given you that impression, sir…"

"No you didn't. I just had to ask." Adama looked thoughtful. "So what would they want in exchange for safe harbor?"

"We would want to learn from you. We would share knowledge between us. Later, when things settle down, your folks would integrate into our society. We are a diverse people. Our strength comes from our diversity. Adding your people would only make us all stronger."

"If all this is true, you are a gift from the gods." Adama turned to Starbuck. "These are your rules of engagement. Take him back and go with him to meet his people. If you think for a moment they are definitely not what he says they are, do not come back. If there is any room for doubt, return. While you are gone, we shall leave this location according to jump protocols. There will be a sentry left here with a senior officer who has the authority to negotiate with these aliens, but even they will not know how to find the fleet. We have protocols to shield us. That means, Lt. Colonel Mitchell, if you do not return Starbuck and our senior staff, we shall eliminate your team after 3 days. There is no way to find us."

"Yes sir." Mitchell needed clarification. "We can be back in a day. A day is one normal waking and sleep cycle." Mitchell explained how a day was calculated trying to pin it down to hours, but the best they could do was counting how many segments in each side's day and comparing it to an average bodily cycle. Mitchell had 26 hours in a day for the first round.

"That is acceptable." Adama looked at Starbuck who nodded back that she understood. "Then go."

Mitchell was sent out so that Adama could speak further to Starbuck.

"Starbuck, in addition to the jump protocols you know, we shall fit you with recorders that cannot be tampered with. You will not know the codes. The sentry ship will be able to review the data you record. That way, if you are drugged or otherwise induced to believe them or coerced to return to the sentry, we shall know. If you are coerced, return to the sentry. By not sending the right signal, the sentry will know you have been coerced. They will not send a signal back to you to disarm the explosives on your ship. If you do not return in a day as we have agreed to the first point, your ship will explode wherever it is. And so will the sentry afterwards. We have to believe these people can find a way to track us if either of you make a jump that takes you to the fleet. So, we shall jump several more times leaving clues which can only find other sentries. Each one will explode after a certain amount of time without receiving the correct code. After three days, we will not leave any more sentries."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"If there is any room for doubt, come back. Let the senior staff take it from there."

"Yes, sir. If I am certain they are no good. I don't come back or don't send the signal to the sentry. If don't know for sure, let the senior staff make that determination."

* * *

**Galactica Flight Deck**

Back in the Raptor, Starbuck set her controls. She maneuvered away from the fleet. While she did, Mitchell tried to count the ships and came to an estimate to report. The three guards with them made a crowded cabin. They would stand guard over the ship and the Captain."

"Just so you know, if you give me any crap, I'll kill you."

"Just so you know, I'm not impressed."

"Ready and jump."

The Raptor being the smallest ship that could make a jump carried them back to the previous coordinates. Almost immediately, Mitchell's com unit started to squawk.

"Hey, we thought we'd lost you when they turned tail and RAN."

"Good to hear from you too, Sheppard."

"So what the hell are you driving over there?"

"I'm not driving, my friend here is. Say hello, Starbuck."

"Hello. This is Colonial Raptor to Sheppard. I am returning Colonel Mitchell because he is a pain in the ass. Over."

"Nice to meet you, too, I guess. What happened to the other three?"

"They are still with my folks enjoying the hospitality and witty banter. Can we please get on with this?"

"Negative. We cannot take your ship through the Stargate. So you'll have to land on that planet down there and come aboard."

"What?"

"Repeat, we cannot take your ship through the Stargate. Your ship won't fit. So you'll have to go through it in my ship. Is that clear?"

"Not at all, but I understand the landing part. I'd ask you to lead us in, but I don't know where you are."

The Puddle Jumper de-cloaked right in front of Starbuck's Raptor. Sheppard smiled and waived. Starbuck lurched the ship hard to avoid a collision. Mitchell was glad he had on his seat belt, noticing her reflexes were excellent.

"You didn't have to do that. I had matched your speed perfectly. Now follow me."

Starbuck looked at Mitchell, "is he crazy?"

"Probably, but you'll get used to it."

Down on the planet, the Starbuck detailed two guards to watch the ship. Then Starbuck, her guard, and Mitchell joined the crew in the Puddle Jumper for the return trip to Atlantis. Approaching the space based Stargate orbiting the planet below Sheppard dialed the Gate. Starbuck watched as the crew operated efficiently. Then she realized they were passing through some sort of ring. In the blink of an eye, the planet below was gone and the Jumper came to a stop inside the Atlantis Gate room with Starbuck shrieking they were going to crash.

"You people are certifiably insane."

"We get that a lot," Mitchell smirked. "Welcome home." Cam helped her disembark. He pointed to the figures standing in the Control Room overlooking the staging area.

"Starbuck, I want you to meet the civilian leader of this facility, Dr. Elizabeth Weir. And the tall grumpy looking man next to her is our military leader, Major General Jack O'Neill." On cue Jack frowned.

"I thought we had an understanding about bringing aliens home, Mitchell," Jack spoke through the PA system.

"Yes, sir we did, past tense. Look, we're on the clock. My guys are still with hers. And we only have, 25 hours left to retrieve them or they go bye-bye for good sir."

"Fine, get yourselves checked out first, debriefing in one hour."

"C'mon, I'll show you something." Mitchell led her and the guard to the observation deck overlooking the city of Atlantis, floating on the ocean. It took Kara's breath away. "This is where your people would live, with us."

"Wow, it looks like home, before the Cylons destroyed it, only it didn't float." She hung over the railing to look below. "Okay, Mitchell, so far so good. Now, explain how you did that. One second we were at that planet and the next we were inside this city. Is this city somewhere on that planet where I left the Raptor?"

"No, Starbuck..."

"My real name is Kara Thrace, you can call me Kara."

"Call me Cam, for Cameron. And no, we are hundreds of light years from that planet."

"Hun-hundreds of light years? You, we, that is I…"

"Yes, kinda boggles the mind, don't it?" Cam smiled broadly. "We have to go see the doctor, just like on your ship. And one thing is the same."

"What?"

"The needles," he grimaced. Kara returned him one and shrugged. "Satisfied?"

"Beginning to be. Your people would really let us stay here?"

"Probably, but it's up to the General and the folks back on Earth."

"Well then, I'll have to mind my manners."

"You have manners?"

* * *

**Atlantis Briefing Room**

An hour later, and one trip to the mess hall completed, the de-briefing began. Jack had already heard about the battle and the escape. Now he got the rest of the story and it was a doosie.

"So we are talking about taking in 40,000 refugees, here in Atlantis?"

"That's correct, sir."

"I didn't make up the spare room, yet. Oy," he groaned.

"I admit that's a lot of people. But this city is huge, General." Starbuck didn't know what to make of the General's reaction. "And Cam says it's mostly uninhabited."

"That's not the problem, Captain. First of all, we don't have supplies here for 40,000 more people. Those have to come from Earth. That takes time." He paused when he saw her face light up at the mention of Earth. In his heart, Jack felt for these people. But there was more to it than just wanting to help. "You should have some things you brought with you. How sizable a cushion do you have for food?"

"We manage."

"Sir, if I may interrupt," Dr. Carson Beckett realize the mistake. "We can't let them bring food stuffs with them. At least not until they've gone through quarantine and a thorough examination. And that goes for all their belongings too. We don't know what sorts of germs or insects they might bring in. All of them would have to go through a medical check and some sort of quarantine. It could take months."

"You're kidding, right?" Starbuck was appalled.

"Simmer down, Captain, we haven't said no… and we haven't said yes. This just hit us. We have to think this through."

"Did anyone think that maybe, the Cylons have some way to track these people? I mean if the Cylons keep turning up, as she said, there must be something they use to find these folks." Dr. Rodney McKay was thinking two jumps ahead as usual. But the implications had not occurred to the other people around the table. "And for that matter, if Cylons can look like Human Form Replicators, how do we know we aren't taking one in along with the rest of them, or for that matter, many Cylons?"

"Human form what," Starbuck asked Cam?

"Like Cylons, probably worse."

"Holy frak! You have Cylons too?" Starbuck rocked back in her chair. "Is the whole frakking universe filled with Toasters taking over?"

"Toasters?"

"Yeah, machines whether they look like us or the toaster on my kitchen counter, they are still just machines… toasters. Frakking unbelievable."

"I like that, 'toasters.' Finally, someone who gets it," Jack murmured. "Captain, do you think you have any toasters among you?"

"Hard to say, sir. They have blood, skin tissue that regenerates, hair, the works. Not all of them are like that, only a few. There are several models which they repeat over and over. Each one has a specific type of programming that simulates human behavior of different temperaments. However, they each have a hidden agenda. The rest look like the machines they are."

"Do you have any samples we could examine?" McKay was snapping his fingers with an idea. "Wait a minute. We have the life signs detector. If the person doesn't register, bingo, it's a… toaster!"

"Very good, Rodney," Dr. Weir responded with a quick smile. She noticed Sheppard jerk his head slightly to indicate the visitors should go. "General, I think we should talk about this in more detail. The Captain would find that discussion very dull."

"Captain," Sheppard began, "would you mind excusing us? We have some things to deliberate. Ronon will give you a tour of some of the facility you might enjoy." Ronon got up taking his cue and gestured for Starbuck to go with him. She didn't like it, but she had no choice.

After they had gone, Weir looked at Sheppard knowing something important was brewing. "What is it, John. What are you worried about?"

"Well, let's examine this legend. There was a planet, where all humans started. From there they founded societies on 13 planets they call colonies. Twelve stayed in touch for thousands of years. That's the key, thousands of years. If they come from another galaxy and they did send a colony to Earth thousands of years ago, who do we know with a similar story?"

Every head swiveled looking at every other head. The lights were on and everyone was home. It took a few moments to digest.

"If what you're suggesting is true," Mitchell replied, "we have no choice but to accept them. And we have to keep them here. They can never go to Earth."

"What?" General O'Neill wasn't sure they were all thinking the same thing.

"I could check her blood test again. I wasn't looking for it, but we always sample for it. Let me call my assistant," Dr. Beckett turned to make the call from his headset.

"What?" General O'Neill looked at Weir.

"They would create chaos back home if they were let loose." She swallowed and addressed O'Neill. "I hate to say this but Colonel Mitchell is right. They have to come. And they have to stay right here and no place else."

"What?" Jack was really getting pissed.

"Then we have to decide how to look after them. I've gotten the city back up and running after the last zed p.m. died, but this will tax our resources," McKay concluded. "It's a good thing we got one from the Ancients we rescued. From what Mitchell and Colonel Caldwell described, these folks aren't packing another zed p.m. They are too primitive. With all those extra people, we'll need more naquadah generators, super sized ones, to supplement the power supply for ordinary systems. The zed p.m. we have has to run the shields, the cloak, and power the Gate"

"Why would they have zed, um Z.P.M.'s? O'Neill cocked his head waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"General, don't you see what this means?"

"Pretend I don't."

"They are the Ancients, but they don't know it."

"She's got it!" Dr. Beckett exclaimed. "Of course I didn't think coming from another galaxy it was an issue, but she has the gene! I'll bet if we test her DNA against the Ancient's DNA database, we'll find many more."

"Can you do those tests on the blood sample we already have?" Dr. Weir was excited.

"I already ordered the analysis. It will take a couple of hours, but I feel confident if she has the gene then at least we are related."

"Wait a minute," Sheppard interrupted. "Maybe the Ancients went to more galaxies than just the Milky Way after they left here. Maybe the Colonials are like us, where the Ancients just mixed in with them. So the stories are similar. However, the Ancient genes are as diluted among them?"

"Or maybe they are real aliens and the Ancients mixed in with them as they did with you," Teyla weighed in. "Elizabeth, if these are the Ancestors, we would want them to be here with us."

"Beckett," the Doctor spoke into his headset. "Ok, I'll let them know." Beckett looked grave and said, "We already have confirmed thirty-five matches with her DNA. That's more than even you have, General. It's not conclusive, but it's a start."

"Why, how many does he have," Rodney petulantly inquired?

"None of your business, Rodney," answered Beckett.

"I have 32 matches, Dr. McKay," sighed General O'Neill.

"Um, actually, we re-ran your tests for a guideline when we found this part of the database, General," Beckett began hesitantly. "You have 34 and it could be more. We haven't learned how to do a really good cross check, yet."

"So, 34," Jack preened ever so slightly.

Hermiod walked into the room and took his place. The little Asgaard regarded O'Neill solemnly. "I have been monitoring this conversation."

"Of course you have," Jack intoned mildly. Here it comes, he thought.

"O'Neill has 10,183 matches. My superior Asgaard brain is able to handle this sort of database more easily. I searched it on my lunch hour one day."

"So, I'm still special." Jack had the slightest smirk. Over ten thousand matches, wow thought Jack. "Hermiod, could you give them a hand with the analysis?"

"I already did."

"What was I thinking? Go on, what did you find?"

"This human female has 12,232 matches. The Asgaard would be interested in meeting these people. They may hold a clue to the solution of our cloning problems. I spoke to Thor who took it up with the High Council. I am to give you their recommendation. They voted unanimously to invite these refugees to Atlantis"

"That didn't take long. I assume they are willing to help out," Jack knew he had a political problem. "Ok I've heard enough. We have to tell the Pentagon. Someone has to order from Costco." Hermiod stared back at Jack. "Supplies, we'll need groceries."

"The Asgaard will facilitate the transport of supplies, O'Neill. We shall assist with the re-settlement of these people and help you determine their true nature. Should they be too aggressive, the High Council is willing to guarantee your safety here."

"Then I had better tell Landry why everything in the commissary just disappeared." Jack got up so did everyone else. "Dial the SGC, I've got a phone call to make."

"Um, while you're at it?" McKay interrupted. "Um, General, could you have them send us the Ascendometer?"

"Why do you want that, McKay?" Sheppard was confused.

"Isn't it obvious? Why do you always leave all the thinking to me," he puffed? "Oh right, because I'm the genius. Obviously, if they are close to being the Ancients, shouldn't we know how far along they are? I mean how close to Ascension they are? We have to prepare for weird things happening."

Jack turned to face Hermiod, cocking his head. "If, Thor's still scooping up the contents of the SGC, give him a jingle and tell him to bring the Ascendometer."

"What is the Ascendometer, please," asked Teyla?

"A device we found in a laboratory," McKay replied. "It measures a person's physical progression towards achieving ascension. You need over 80 percent to do it without all the meditation and mumbo jumbo. The closer someone gets to the 80 percent, the more they acquire unusual abilities."

"Oh goody, folks going all glowy and scaring the dog." Jack mumbled as he loped off to call the SGC.

"Ronon," Dr. Weir called over her headset. "Bring her back to the control room. Thank you." Weir turned to Hermiod and asked, "Would you have any way to help us find the Colonial Fleet once Colonel Mitchell returns to them? I'm not sure we know how to tell them to get here."

"In fact, Dr. Weir, after Thor delivers the supplies, he would be able to tow them here. It would be more efficient."

"Tow them here," Weir looked as surprised as she ever got. "Well, thank you. And please thank the High Council for us."

"There is no need. We are doing this for ourselves as much as for you."

"Then, I think we should introduce you to Captain Starbuck."

"Her name is in fact Captain Thrace, Dr. Weir. Humans are particular about using the correct title with the correct name are they not?"

"Thank you, Hermiod, yes we are. Then we should introduce you to her."

"No, Dr. Weir. I believe she would have an adverse reaction at this point. Have her go back to her people. Thor will figure out how to find them without frightening them. He will determine the composition of their fleet. When you meet with the next delegation say one of your mother ships will tow them, and leave it without further explanation."

"Alright, then, that's the plan." Dr. Weir alerted Jack on his headset and called Mitchell back in to explain matters. With some trepidation, Starbuck entered the room for the verdict.

"Captain, we have decided to offer the Admiral the opportunity to come and discuss his concerns with us or send his representatives. If all goes well, then perhaps we can exchange visits. If you leave now, we can receive your delegation today. Please let him know that we wish all of you well and look forward to a subsequent meeting."

As she said it a flash of light all over the base brought down boxes of supplies.

"Jumping frak! Where, how?"

"Just a few supplies, don't worry about it. Please tell the Admiral we want you to bring his delegation back to the coordinates where you met Colonel Mitchell and Colonel Sheppard. From there, we shall transport his party as we did you."

At that moment, O'Neill walked in very satisfied. "I see Thor arrived with the stuff from Earth. He also brought the refrigeration equipment this time. So have some of your technicians find them all and plug them in before the stuff melts."

"Yes, General," Weir activated her head set and sent the techs off searching for the equipment. "The O'Neill II is so much faster than their previous ships. I just didn't think it was this fast."

"Yes, it is," Jack preened.

"Ready to go back, Captain?"

"One question sir," Starbuck answered. "How, I mean where did all this stuff come from? It just appeared a moment ago."

"One of our intergalactic ships just arrived from Earth with more supplies, that's all," Jack turned to go. "If we all agree to tow the Fleet here, we'll need it."

"Tow the Fleet, sir?"

"It's more efficient that way," Jack moved to leave.

"It would take only a few moments rather than wasting the time trying to program your systems," McKay added.

"One of your intergalactic… ships?" Starbuck became alarmed. How advanced were these people? They could send to another galaxy for boatloads of supplies. Then, a few moments later have them materialize out of thin air? They had enormous ships that could tow a fleet across hundreds of light years? Who were these people? They could be capable of anything. Starbuck wasn't sure any more that the Fleet should come.

"Well, it might have to make two trips." Weir glanced up to see Hermiod shaking his head no and holding up one finger. "But it probably will only take one."

"One of your ships can tow the entire Fleet across hundreds of light years in moments?" She was incredulous. "Now wait a moment." Starbuck was truly shocked. "You want me to believe that all these boxes just came from another Galaxy, boxes that showed up out of thin air?"

"We needed the extra supplies. Forty thousand people are a lot of mouths to feed."

"We only discussed the matter a short time ago. So in that short time, you had a ship go back and forth between galaxies?"

"Actually, we called it to come," Weir said nonchalantly. Jack shrugged. Starbuck stared back at them in a quandary.

"You folks are scary."

Starbuck backed away. She looked at them shaking her head. Dr. Weir remained silent letting Starbuck work it out. After Starbuck thought some more she recapitulated the situation.

"I get in a ship which flies quickly through a ring in space. Instantly, it ends up stopped inside an office building. You have a floating city that has elevators that flip your molecules from one end of the city to the other. You have ships that can hide themselves in plain view. Now you are telling me you have an even bigger ship than the one I saw blow up two huge Wraith ships. It's so huge it can make a trip between galaxies in a few moments just to deliver some food. I saw this stuff appear out of nowhere. Now you want your new 'big' ship to tow the entire fleet?"

"Very good, Captain," Weir replied mildly. She could see how disturbed the woman was. "You understand everything."

"You left out the part that this city is a flying space ship," Mitchell deadpanned.

Starbuck gasped.

"Now aren't you glad you took the pony ride here?"

O'Neill chuckled, "Hank said that Thor emptied out Petersen Air Force Base and Ft. Carson too. Then he made a pass by Area 51 and relieved them of their supplies. "Gotta love that guy." He chuckled some more.

"Wait, you just finished talking to a guy named Hank, who is on Earth?"

"Yes. He says welcome and looks forward to meeting you very soon." Jack stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels very satisfied.

"Earth in another galaxy? You spoke to Earth in another galaxy just now? I don't believe you. This is all an elaborate trick. You've drugged me and I am hallucinating all this. Just get away from me." Starbuck threw up her hands and backed away. "Wake up, wake up, c'mon wake up."

"I want to talk to her," Jack stated softly. Everyone understood they should leave. Once they were gone he faced her. He let her scrutinize him, not rushing things. Starbuck began to have that fight or flight response. Jack saw it coming on. In quiet but firm tones he said, "Captain, get control of yourself now. Now, Captain." Starbuck didn't move. "Captain, you are an officer. Behave like one."

"You aren't real. I am hallucinating."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack paused. Once more, firmly, he said in his command voice, "That's enough." Many silent moments passed. Starbuck pinched herself. It hurt.

"I'm not sure I want to recommend coming. You could do anything, while we couldn't stop you."

"At least that statement is professional." Jack waited. Starbuck began to think not react. Jack waited a moment longer. "Captain, your people are in trouble. We have offered them a lifeline. Take it."

"What about…"

"None of that matters," O'Neill interrupted with authority. "Focus on the situation, Captain. Survival, what do you need? What do you have? Is it enough?"

Starbuck began to think it through.

"I doubt you are senior enough to make that decision. Let me speak to Admiral Adama's representative. We'll proceed from there."

Starbuck's eyes shot up in alarm. Patiently, Jack cocked his head. Starbuck licked her lips thinking what to do.

Jack knew he had reached her. "Go home. I have a base to run."

Starbuck got mad. Jack noted the change with satisfaction. "Just like that?"

"I'll make this clear, Captain. Dismissed." Jack turned around and left the room to find Weir and Mitchell in the Control Room.

Starbuck blinked. No one had ever spoken to her that frankly besides Colonel Tigh. The man was right. She should report and let another more senior officer come. Making that decision for the last of her people was above her pay grade.

"Take her home," Jack ordered Mitchell. "Tell them I am willing to receive the Admiral's senior staff only if they have the authority to make decisions." To Weir he simply said, "She's rattled, time for her to go. Anyway, I have to talk to Thor." With that, Jack activated his Asgaard stone and beamed away.

* * *

**Thor's Ship The O'Neill II**

On board the O'Neill II, Jack materialized in a room with many boxes.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

"Whatcha doing here?"

"I hitched a ride with Thor. He said I would want to come."

"He's right." Jack looked at what Daniel was eating. "Got some more of that?" Daniel handed him some ice cream. "Sweet."

"I was eating in the commissary as all the food was disappearing and people were screaming in terror because all the food was disappearing. You know he finally figured out refrigeration. This time he took freezers and refrigerators. So someone might want to find them and plug them back in." Daniel reached for a beer. "Still cold I see."

"Elizabeth," Jack spoke into his headset. "Daniel is here. Please have the quartermaster send clothes to his quarters and other necessary supplies." He grinned. "The freezers are a nice touch. Thor's getting better at this."

"Jack?"

"Daniel."

"What's going on?"

"We've made some new friends."

"Oh really, that's nice, right?"

"Maybe, we need to look into the matter of taking on 40,000 refugees that may or may not be the last of the Ancients. Only they don't know about the Ancients. And they don't know they are descendents."

"So you want me to talk to them without giving that information away," Daniel scooped up some more ice cream. "What else?"

"They've still got three of my pilots. Mitchell's squadron paid them an accidental visit after a battle with the Wraith. Seems these folks are from another galaxy. We saved their asses and they ran for it. Now they want to know if we might consider taking them in."

"Thor was right."

"About?"

"Coming, I do want to be here. So Jack, what exactly do you want me to determine?"

"Ancients, that's your department. I want you to figure out if we want to let them come here. Hermiod says the Asgaard High Council recommends we rescue them."

"Oh they do," Daniel shook his head. "So that's why Thor just appropriated all these supplies."

"That's not all. If we can get the "Colonials" to agree to come, Thor wants to tow them here en masse."

"You're kidding?"

"Daniel!"

"Right. What else?"

"One of their more senior representatives will arrive shortly. Meet with him but don't tell them about the Asgaard. Just say one of our mother ships will tow them and leave it at that. We've spooked their representative enough. I want you to go as our representative to them. Find out if they are telling the truth. They claim to be protecting a civilian fleet of refugees."

"Ok, then what? Where are you going to be?"

"I'll be with Thor. Once you arrive at their fleet, we'll receive your implant's signal and come cloaked. Thor already tagged the two that are here. He'll tag the next bunch as well."

"I know the drill. I hope Landry knows where I went."

"I'll tell Weir to call and tell him you'll be out late. You've got a hot date." Jack half-smirked, tapping his watch. "Don't stay out past midnight on a school night."

He activated his Asgaard comm unit, sending Daniel down to Atlantis. Standing up, Jack snatched the ice cream and a spoon to eat on the way to see Thor. Entering the bridge, Jack looked for a trash can. Finding none, he gently set the empty ice cream container on a console near the door.

"What do you think, Buddy?" Jack walked across the bridge of the O'Neill II. The Asgaard had made a breakthrough in ship design. Among other things it was much faster, able to travel between galaxies in hours. To honor Thor's friend and the Asgaard's savior, they named the new ship for Jack, replacing the one Carter blew up.

"Think they'll bite?"

"On what should they bite, O'Neill?" Thor sighed. "Oh, one of your expressions, I understand. How was the pizza?"

"Oh that was great, thanks. We all enjoyed it." Jack looked down thoughtfully and then faced Thor. "Do you really think they have the cloning solution?"

"There is no way to tell without studying them. But even if we find a hint, it will be worth it."

"You wouldn't be thinking of going to their galaxy, would you?"

"We would."

"Ah, right, so you want to find out from whence they got driven out so you can what?"

"Find something they may have overlooked. Ever since we examined organic Wraith technology, we have been studying applications. We find it intriguing that machines can manipulate flesh and blood. It is remarkable the tissue survives without being on a living organism. Even the Human Form Replicators cannot do that."

"Yes, well you nearly got yourselves wiped out the last time you got curious with Replicators. Word to the wise and all, I'm just saying."

"We may not find what we seek, O'Neill. Increasingly, it is more and more difficult to clone our bodies. We may need an interim solution."

"You can't be serious?" Jack swung around appalled. "Don't even go there."

"We may have no choice, I'm afraid."

"Thor, it would be the worst mistake you folks ever made. You guys have made some whoppers too." Jack thought for a moment. "Maybe we can come up with another great dumb idea instead? Let us try? At least hold off long enough to let us try before you stuff yourselves in some robot bodies."

"You may try, O'Neill. You must hurry. We have very few years left."

* * *

**Galactica**

Two days later, after meeting with several of Galactica's representatives in Atlantis, Daniel eyed Cam as they marched through the corridors of the Galactica. Daniel's expression said it all. This place was grim and grimmer. At least this time, they skipped the interrogation and went directly to the Admiral's briefing room. Adama was already there with his staff. They knew another Earth representative had arrived. The greetings and introductions exchanged, everyone sat down to talk.

Adama began with the obvious question. How could Starbuck's fantastic claims be true? He didn't ask the next most obvious question. Did he want to get in bed with them? Kara had made some wild claims based on what she said she saw. His senior delegate and the guards supported those claims. Were they tricked? The recording devices did not seem to be compromised. The images and the discussions were bizarre. The whole proposal was too good to be true. If it's too good to be true, it's not true, thought Adama. What's the catch?

Daniel assured them that Starbuck spoke the truth.

"What is your purpose here today, Dr. Jackson?"

"I am here to have a look at your situation and to answer questions. Naturally, we want to verify that you are indeed escorting civilians and that you don't have a war fleet coming at us."

"Naturally. On the other hand, if I verify what we do and don't have, you might try to conquer us."

"Well, that's something I hope this meeting can resolve. I am authorized based on my inspection to issue you an invitation to come to Atlantis for additional meetings. See for yourself if what Captain Thrace and the others say is true. Talk to us. If you are who you say you are, then you are welcome."

"Thank you for the sentiments. I'll take the invitation under advisement for the rest of this meeting. You said you were here to answer questions. Very well," Adama went through his list verifying some of the more fantastic claims. He shook his head. Actually, his curiosity was aroused. The ambassador sent by the Earth people was nothing like what he expected. It was difficult to assess this man. Clearly he had a military demeanor at times. He also was a geek that claimed to be an intergalactic explorer, who had fought many battles. This Dr. Jackson was as brilliant a mind as Adama had ever encountered. What a study in contradictions!

"So that still leaves the question how you came to be so advanced."

"Admiral, we are a curious people. It is our nature to want to explore. We have been exploring to find new ideas, new science, and new technologies for some time. We have met some very nice people and some very bad people. Either way, we learned and adapted."

"I appreciate the way you answered that question. Colonel Mitchell said that you are here to explore. But we have seen that you can fight most effectively. No one comes just to explore without expecting to gain something tangible. With that kind of fire power, what do you hope to gain? Are you building an empire?

"No, I wouldn't call it an empire. We have made alliances with many peoples. As a result, we have begun to build a network, but that's all it is."

"What do you do with the worlds that are primitive by comparison?"

"We respect their sovereignty and offer to teach them useful things if they wish. We teach better farming methods, better education, and sanitation. Most importantly, we help with medicines. From them we learn about their cultures and seek to build a future relationship for the time when they are ready to stand as equals in science and learning."

"Very well said, but I would expect to hear nothing different." Adama checked his notes. "You say you are an archaeologist?" Daniel nodded. "How did you come to be selected as the ambassador to us?"

"I have known General O'Neill for many years. He was the commanding officer on our exploration team. Jack and I have a firm friendship based on trust and respect. It also helps that I read and write in many languages."

"Yes, we never did get the answer to why Colonel Mitchell said we only think you speak to us in our language. Explain."

"The truth is we don't know exactly. Something changes in a person once he passes through a Stargate. Afterwards, he understands most spoken languages, but not all. I am actually speaking to you in my own language but you hear me in yours. It is a great mystery. However, I can not necessarily read or write your language until I learn it the old-fashioned way, by study and hard work."

Adama chuckled. "So now Kara and the entire delegation have this facility too?"

"As far as I know, yes they do." Daniel reached into his pocket and placed a small disk on the table. The sentries made a motion towards their weapons. Adama gave a questioning look. "This is a greeting recorded by our civilian leader of Atlantis. Her name is Dr. Elizabeth Weir. She too has brokered many treaties and handles all civilian matters in the city and between Atlantis and foreign ambassadors. May I play her message?" He got the assent and activated the hologram recording.

Everyone in the room gasped as Elizabeth came to life in 3 D. She looked as real as if she were standing there next to Daniel. Even Adama had to wave his hand through her. When the speech concluded, she disappeared. Immediately sound and a bright flash of light revealed Jack O'Neill, who appeared in his dress blues with a chest full of medals. He looked around and greeted Daniel.

"You have an interactive feature to this?" Apollo was amazed.

"Depends what you mean by interactive," O'Neill replied. Everyone sucked in their breath. "Daniel, make the introductions. "Which one is Admiral William Adama?"

"I am. Who are you?"

"I'm Major General Jack O'Neill, the commander of Atlantis Base. I hope my good friend Daniel, here, has answered your questions satisfactorily. I wanted to add my personal greetings and say, 'howdy'," Jack gave a short hand wave.

"Hello," Adama said back. "I am really speaking to you, now?"

"Yes, sir, you certainly are. I'd like to invite you to Atlantis, Admiral. So just say the word and we can get this shindig started." Jack looked around at the stunned faces. No one knew what to say. Adama was non-plussed. "No, really… say the word." Jack checked his watch. Jack addressed Adama, "As much as I love small talk, it would be more productive to show you directly."

"Jack I haven't checked out the other ships yet."

"It's not necessary, Daniel. I already did it. They are civilians, especially on the Silver Cloud. Wow, they have some action going over there. You folks know how to have a good time."

"They are having a party?"

"Big party. Big." Jack saw Adama getting upset to discover they had been spying on the Fleet. In a more serious tone, Jack added, "Look, Admiral I respect your caution. I would do the same. But really, we are on the clock here. Sensors say that several Wraith Hive ships are in your area. We need to go."

"Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Jack?" Daniel waved his hand which collided with O'Neill's chest. "I hate it when you do that."

"Yes, I know," Jack smirked. "It's an upgrade so the holoimages work with the transporter." The guards raised their weapons. "Admiral, I wanted to drop by personally to introduce myself and to extend the invitation. But we all have to leave this area quickly."

The woman next to Daniel reached out, touched O'Neill, and yelped.

Jack moved to face Adama. "What do you say, Bill? I can call you Bill can't I?"

Jack stuck out his hand. A pregnant pause ensued as Adama tried to decide whether to accept the hand or shoot the intruder. This O'Neill had guts to show up like this. It was proof these people were extremely advanced, not only to appear out of thin air, but also to have found the Fleet.

"I have not given you permission to come aboard my ship, General O'Neill." Adama was pissed that these people were demonstrating their power in this arrogant manner.

"Permission to come aboard, sir?" Jack snapped to attention and gave him a perfect salute.

"Permission granted." Adama made the same gesture. "I don't see how we have any choice. I can't stop you from doing whatever you want, so let's see how it goes."

"Exxxxcellent. We should arrive at Atlantis in," Jack checked his watch and counted down with his fingers, "in five, four, three, two," Jack looked perplexed as nothing happened. He tapped his watch to check it was working. Then suddenly the meeting was standing on the Atlantis Observation Deck. "Ack, I thought I had that timed."

"What? Where are we? What did you do, kidnap us?" Adama was much shorter than O'Neill but he was pugnacious. Angry having been treated lightly, he went up to O'Neill and glared at him.

"You said the word, Bill. I distinctly recall you saying 'lets see it how it goes.' We went. Now we're here. Sweet, eh?"

"But I didn't, that's just an, oh hell with it." Adama eyed O'Neill with pique. Jack tried to look innocent.

"Did you bring the whole fleet?" Apollo was alarmed his ship had been left behind without him.

"Of course, we said we would bring you all, except, we got rid of six Cylons before we left."

"What did you do with them?"

"Turned them into toast," Jack looked around. "That's what you do with toasters, right?"

Adama snorted at the bravado of this man. But something about him was genuine. Jack gave a rueful smile and spoke gently to his counterpart.

"Turn around, Bill. I want you to see your new home." Reacting to O'Neill's thought activation, the doors turned on their hinges to allow the assembly passage to the outdoors. The ocean breeze blew in with the tang of clean salt air. O'Neill led the way.

Adama and his party followed, taking in the view of the city gleaming in the sunshine and floating on the ocean. The spires and buildings reached for the sky. The thought that they had reached sanctuary was almost too much for a few of them. Adama and O'Neill walked up to the railing and peered around. Adama nodded sagely.

"You're right. I had to see this for myself."

"Yes, you did."

"I really don't appreciate how you brought us here." He looked for a long while. Jack waited patiently. After collecting his thoughts, Adama extended his hand for real that time. In all seriousness, Jack accepted warmly.

"I think we have the beginnings of a beautiful friendship, Jack. I can call you Jack, right?"

"I would be honored if you would, Bill.


	2. Chapter 2: Coming To Terms

**Part Two: Coming to Terms**

"Tell me how this happened?"

Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies received Admiral Adama in her office aboard Colonial One. After the disastrous presidency of Gaius Baltar on New Caprica, the Council of Twelve unanimously impeached him. Elections were held and Laura Roslin took office again.

"Fate," Adama murmured.

"It's too good to be true." Both leaders understood each other perfectly.

"Yes, Madame President," Adama replied. "We need this respite. We need to re-supply. We need to repair the damage to all ships and all systems. Most of all, we need to heal."

"With a speech like that, I'm surprised you don't run for office, Admiral," Roslin said in soft tones with a steely look in her eyes. "Anyway, I'm going to use it in mine. But first things first," the President crooned. "If they are so powerful, will they let us leave or do we have to slip away in the night like thieves?"

"Madame President, where would we go that they couldn't find us? We don't know how they did it this time. We jumped six times. There is no way they could have anticipated where we went. I don't know how to evade people like that. No one does."

"Then find out, Admiral. It's a military matter. That's your job as you are so fond of telling me. I want to know that we can cut and run if we have to without getting caught." Roslin swiveled to look out her window. "There lies the Sirens' Song, Admiral. The irresistible call no sailor can withstand." Swiveling back to face him, she added "and everyone one of them ends up on the rocks, shipwrecked."

"Possibly, and we have no way of knowing until we go."

"Oh, we know, Admiral, don't we? Once our people taste luxury again, they won't trade it for the hardships and the uncertainty. We saw them do it on New Caprica. And that was far worse than a ready made city. They'll do it again in a heartbeat once they see that." She indicated what was out the window.

"We have a window of opportunity. They will not allow us to disembark en masse. They want to do a medical check of each person. And they want to know who each person is before they grant sanctuary."

"What do they intend to do with the ones they don't grant sanctuary?"

"Unknown."

* * *

In the Atlantis board room, the briefing began with the arrival of Richard Woolsey, the American Representative to the International Oversight Agency (IOA). The senior Atlantis staff attended along with some other representatives from Earth. Present were Major General Jack O'Neill, Atlantis Base Commander; Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the IOA Civilian head reporting to O'Neill; Colonel Caldwell, Commander of the Daedalus; Drs. Rodney McKay, Daniel Jackson, Carson Beckett, and Radek Zelenka; Teyla Emmagen, leader of the Athosian population; Colonels John Sheppard, Cameron Mitchell, and Samantha Carter; and Russian Commander Dmitri Orlov, Commander of the Borodino a Daedalus-class ship. O'Neill called the meeting to order. Woolsey began.

"The IOA and the Joint Chiefs agree, General." Richard Woolsey was good at being the bearer of bad news. "You cannot allow those people to settle in Atlantis."

"But Mr. Woolsey, we have already offered them sanctuary here," Daniel huffed. "Do you have any idea...?"

"Yes, yes, I do, Dr. Jackson. In fact, I said as much. But the current Administration regards Atlantis to be the crown jewel in the whole Stargate Program. I am here to tell you that nothing, absolutely nothing, will be allowed to jeopardize our hold on this treasure." Woolsey looked around at the astonished faces.

"Crown jewel," Jack narrowed his eyes?

"General, you and I know what happened when Ancients we recovered after ten millennia returned to this city. They threw us out. The result was our capture by the Human Form Replicators which call themselves the Asurans. That the city was liberated mostly intact was a miracle." Woolsey looked at each and every person around the briefing table. "That can never be allowed to happen again."

"So what do those fine folks on Earth want us to do, yank out the welcome mat from under them?"

"They are afraid that if enough of the Colonials have the Ancient genes or worse are Ancients, they will be in a position to overrun our operations and take over the city. We've been in that position before when we were too eager to help others before we knew who they really were or what their intentions could be."

"At least the IOA concedes these are 'people.' I wasn't sure," Daniel snarked back.

"Dr. Jackson, you of all people must realize how dangerous it would be to have Ancients back in the city. These people are traumatized in the extreme. Traumatized Ancients or even people with the Ancient genes who can operate the systems here are a threat."

"Daniel, Mr. Woolsey does have a point," Sam agreed. She was after all a Lt. Colonel in the military. "We don't know how far along they may be towards Ascension. We can't afford to have uncontrolled situations develop with them getting special abilities we can't control."

"Thank you, Colonel Carter." Woolsey took up the attack again. "I am here to give you the rules of engagement as stipulated by the President and agreed by the IOA."

Everyone opened their folders provided for the meeting. The bullet point summary provided the cover for the text.

"First, they must be removed to a suitable planet where they can be quarantined. We recommend Arula only 5 light years from here. The Wraith recently culled the planet, which is no longer in a sector of their activities. There is an infrastructure, which can provide housing, sanitation to some degree, and a potable water supply. The fields were planted before the culling and are approaching maturity. And the planet has a Stargate."

"I know that one," Lt. Colonel John Sheppard remarked. "It was one of the more advanced places we've ever found."

"Right, they had electricity and plumbing as I recall," Colonel Steven Caldwell added. "But it was a mess after the Wraith got through with it."

"Their level of development is simple enough that we could fix it," Dr. Rodney McKay concluded. "We would need supplies and some technicians. Thor said they would provide transportation for supplies. We could have it up and running in a few weeks, minimally running."

"My point exactly," Woolsey commented. "That is an adequate venue for processing them and containing them without risking this city. The IOA will send additional medical personnel and supplies to screen them."

"Assuming they will wait that long," Dr. Weir added worried. "They are anxious to get off those ships. I know I would be."

"We could use those ships to defend Atlantis, Dick," Jack added testily. "Didn't any of those brain dead sycophants think of that?"

"We have found some interesting technology on board their ships which suggest a greater capability than those ships actually have." Sam turned to O'Neill, "Sir, we need to get access to their data. The schematics of those ships are available from Thor's scans. But I believe that they have a wealth of data on more advanced ship designs and on their enemy's very advanced designs. Like the Wraith, the Cylons use organic materials to construct their ships as well as themselves."

"Why wouldn't they build a ship that's better than that thing?" Rodney gave a look at Sam all peeved knowing he had the answer. "What no one knows? I'll tell you, because they didn't want to do it. I found out they did it to counteract Cylon viruses from being uploaded into the computers. Something to think about with the problems we have with the Asurans."

"So they do have something to offer," Jack doodled. "Nice to know, Good work Carter."

"McKay, can we retrofit their ships to be worthwhile," Woolsey asked?"

"We can re-supply their armaments. If we have some help, yes we can redesign some of their equipment to take ours. We need the data but we can retrofit their ships depending on what is approved by the Pentagon."

"What about shields, Carter," Jack asked?

"Sure if Thor is willing. But even so, just having more ships for search and rescue or planting mines or other such tasks increases our effectiveness." Carter looked at Woolsey. "Mr. Woolsey, their jump technology is different than opening a hyperspace window. That means it is unlikely the Wraith can follow them into the hyperspace corridor after them. In fact if I need to attack a Hive and retreat, I would do it in their ships. We need to investigate whether Ancient technology can track them. Because if we can't it is probable the Wraith can't either. But we don't know yet."

"The Wraith have to be in range to track anything," Sheppard explained. "If we can determine whether the Colonials can target their jumps to just outside the Wraith's ability to scan or track hyperspace activity, then we can lay some traps."

"Sir, if the opponents expect what they know we can do, and now we can do something different we have an advantage at least once if not a couple of times. These ships can jump without traveling through hyperspace. That's a strategic advantage. We don't need a home run. We need a couple of single base hits, a couple of sacrifice flies, and a bunt to win the game," Caldwell weighed in. "If they can just do some local hauling it helps free up our other ships for military defense. We won't have to use Puddle Jumpers to haul freight. Plus, they can shuttle people before the fighting starts. We can track the Wraith, so we have some early warning."

"Actually, we can sacrifice one of their smaller ships to send an automated jump next to a Hive Ship with naquadria enhanced nukes," Carter replied. "Nothing can survive a big payload like that or even two ships for a high enough value target."

"Even so, they are going to get upset." Dr. Weir stated. "We already told them they had to pass medical checks. They aren't happy that our doctors are going to search them. Now you want to blow up their ships?"

"We are planning negotiations. So we have to figure out what our approach should be." Mr. Woolsey explained.

"They are planning to live here." Jack frowned. "What approach would you recommend to tell them they aren't welcome anymore?"

"We have to make the price too high," said Woolsey.

"What are you saying, Dick?" Jack was losing patience.

"We make it appear that they would lose their identities by assimilating with us."

"We told them we have many different groups. We are composed of many nations right here. How do you suppose you can get away with that?"

"You make them swear allegiance to the Earth Alliance. Tell them that they are now part of our military."

"I think they might be willing to conduct joint operations, Dick. Admiral Adama and I have already discussed the possibility."

"Well, I'm not sure we are ready for that. At least have them swear allegiance to Earth before we go running off on operations and certainly before their warships can appear anywhere in the vicinity of Earth. They have to conform to our chain of command."

Jack continued to doodle with deceptive calm, "Didn't we just get through saying those ships could come in handy in case the Wraith attack? Making them swear to anything will just piss them off when they are already willing to work with us."

"Maybe that's a good thing, General," said Caldwell. "We can use it to make them uncomfortable."

"General," Dr. Weir interjected, "we can also tell them that they must accept our laws and traditions. In some sense, we need to do that anyway. If we have different law codes and jurisdictions it will start conflicts immediately. This suggestion can work for us to disturb them."

"I can't believe you are good with this, Dr. Weir," Jack said softly.

"I have met with their leaders several times now. They are one paranoid bunch. I've met some paranoid folks in my time. These are some of the worst. They see Cylons under their beds. The Colonials are so afraid of everything, it will be difficult for them to let go of their fears. If we don't standardize the rules, it will be a continual struggle to keep the peace between us. Besides, we need time to get to know one another before we join up."

"We should take advantage of this, to make them want to be separate," Woolsey concluded. "If we do this right, they will be clamoring for their own planet, where we can contain them. We don't show them how to work the Stargate for a while. We can't let news of Atlantis' existence reach the Wraith."

"We should be able to observe their self-governance in action before we agree to an exchange of ambassadors." Dr. Weir continued on that thought. "It's one thing to have their representatives in Atlantis. Earth is a different matter."

"Let the burden of proof be on them to prove that they are civilized," Colonel Caldwell summarized. "I wouldn't let anyone near Earth unless we knew they subscribed to our moral values. Would you allow North Korea to march their armored divisions into Washington without checking that they are not going to start firing?"

"Well we are not talking about them going to Earth in their ships, Caldwell," Jack said.

"It's not any different here, sir. They can't just barge in here just because they want to," Caldwell insisted. "They can do some serious damage with the nukes they have and their Vipers."

"Our shields can handle what they have," Dr. McKay huffed.

"Yes, but what about the Athosians who live on the mainland, Dr. McKay?" Teyla got angry. "I have seen the power of this explosion. It would wipe out my people. You are not suggesting…"

"No of course not, Teyla," Dr. Weir interrupted.

"And they have dissidents I hear," Colonel Mitchell added. "I've been talking to Starbuck. It seems they aren't so unified after all. Their vice-president is a convicted terrorist who has a new lease on life. He was on the prison ship when the disaster happened. In the chaos, he managed to get himself elected to their governing body and later to the vice-presidency."

"A terrorist," several voices asked at once?

"Yes, it seems this Tom Zarek was convicted to serve 20 years for bombing a populated place. I don't have all the details. But Starbuck hates him. She says he incites trouble to get what he wants. According to her, he has a whole network."

"Oh," Jack too casually inquired?

"Sir, it was in my memo on dissidents and criminals among them."

"Right."

"Sir, you did read my memo?"

"I may have skimmed it."

All eyes stared at Jack. He shrugged. "So we have factions. What else?"

"Well, their religious leaders want to negotiate behind the backs of their political leaders," Daniel offered.

"You didn't tell me that, Daniel."

"It was in my memo, Jack."

"Oh."

"You didn't read it?"

"My assistant condenses these things into one briefing. I don't know whose information it is. I just get the summary. If I want more, I read it."

"You didn't read it! I spent a lot of time condensing it down to just the priority items as you keep asking me to do," Daniel looked especially peeved.

"Daniel, go to your happy place," Jack admonished. "I'll read it."

"There is a huge religious issue concerning Earth. They insist they have to go there. And they are claiming we won't let them go because we aren't really from Earth." Daniel pursed his lips and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"General," Dr. Weir decided he didn't know about the religious issues. They have a religious text that talks about Earth as their Thirteenth Colony."

"_THEIR_ 13th colony," Jack murmured?

"If you want to unnerve that segment, then introduce the concept of freedom of religion during the negotiations. They are singularly closed minded." Woolsey suggested. "They want to be sure that their religion is not overwhelmed and no indoctrination will be permitted from our religious groups."

"Sir," Carter asked for the floor. "They actually still worship the ancient Greek deities and pray to idols."

"What?" Jack was amazed.

"I saw one of them taking out a personal set of images. He set them out to pray to them," Carter added. "I asked Starbuck what they were. She said that those were the Deities. She said she prayed to Ares and Athena the gods of war along with Artemis, the huntress."

"Well there's a difference between looking at images to focus your thoughts and actually believing the items are the gods themselves," Daniel objected. "We have religions on Earth that put out statues to help focus the thoughts of those praying."

"No, I asked her. She said that each idol had the essence of the gods within."

"Wow. Oy," went the groans around the table.

"Jack," continued Daniel, "according to their religious texts, they believe that everything that will happen has already happened before and will repeat again and again."

"And, so, therefore, what?"

"Therefore it is pre-ordained that they must go to Earth."

Sighs escaped from around the table.

* * *

On the Galactica, President Roslin called a meeting with the Council of Twelve, Admiral Adama, and his senior staff. The subject was obvious. A new direction had to be established. Some consensus would be necessary to present a united front to these aliens. Adama and Roslin knew about the separate approaches made to the Atlantis aliens. It had to end.

"I've called you here because we are stabbing ourselves in the foot even before negotiations can commence," President Roslin gave each person a steely look. "We have let them know how factionalized we are. You have made us look weak at a time we can least afford it. It has to stop. Therefore I am issuing an executive order. All negotiations proceed from my office and nowhere else."

"I want each one of you to listen to what we have determined so far. After this briefing, you will understand why we cannot appear to be weak. Now, open your folders," Adama instructed.

The bullet point summary covered the text. Everyone took a few minutes to read through the summary. Groans could be heard as each one internalized the tremendous capabilities of their 'saviors.'

"If all this is true, we don't stand a chance," the Representative from Virgon said softly. "What did you have in mind? Obviously, you have a plan or you would not call this meeting and tell us all this."

We are dealing with a totally militarized command and top down totalitarian control society," stated Roslin. "They do not have elected bodies. Major General O'Neill rules personally. They permit discussions only within limited options as stipulated by their military leader. Dissent is tolerated only from very few handpicked individuals who are chosen at the commander's whim. We have to recognize that they have very different values. You need to realize what we face before we can make any decisions."

"We have learned that their religious beliefs are as rigidly controlled as their social structure. Their single religious deity forbids anything that is perceived as a competition. Worship of individual gods is frowned upon and regarded as apostasy. They cannot help themselves putting a continuous stream of references into their everyday speech. They do not recognize anyone else's gods. In fact, they are bound and determined to correct anyone who may be going astray from their single religious deity. It is only a matter of time before coordinated proselytizing efforts begin."

"That is terrible, Madame President," said Cassandra the new Priestess. "The Lords of Kobol protect us."

"So say we all."

"So say we all."

"We have noticed that their familial relationships are also very strange. While the male to female ratio is close to one to one, no nuclear family structure has been detected in the city. In fact we can not detect any children there. The relationships between the sexes are as rigidly regulated as all the other aspects of their lives. The hierarchy puts very strict restrictions on who can and cannot pair up."

"That's just not natural," murmured the Council member from Caprica. Heads bobbed in agreement.

"Food and services to the base are provided by a subservient people on the mainland. They are deliberately kept in pre-industrial conditions. And their approach to modern knowledge, education, and military equipment is curtailed. The most probably reason is because their non-conformist religious beliefs. They are ruled by a charismatic leader who holds sway over the populace. Ostensibly, the exchange is that she makes the populace do what the city requires and they keep her in power. She consorts with the higher caste people at the base in exchange for her own comforts."

"Are they practicing slavery," asked Apollo in disgust?

"If not slavery, then something very close to it by all accounts," said one of Adama's senior staff.

"I don't agree," spoke up the Admiral. "I have spent some considerable time one on one with O'Neill. He seems to be a very decent guy. We must be misunderstanding something."

"Admiral, surely you don't deny the distinct impression that they are hiding something big?

"I agree with that assessment. But we don't know what or even if it has to do with military security or just caution. You are right; we have to find out more before we can commit to these folks."

"Starbuck's reports along with your own senior staff indicate their relationship to their major power centers and Earth are severely edited and hidden from us. If there are other species such as the Wraith, there must be more. Their description of the political situation in this galaxy is woefully inadequate. Their goal seems to be to hide the truth."

"O'Neill has told me about a race called the 'Jaffa,' but he says they are not indigenous to this galaxy. He says their leader is his very good friend. He wanted to see how I would react. I guess he was satisfied enough that he also spoke of a peaceful group called the 'Nox,' who also don't live here. He spoke warmly of them and the friendship they have with them. With respect, ma'am, talk to the man, you'll get the impression he's cautious, not duplicitous."

"Admiral, may I remind you they do not appear to have respect or any appreciation of our society, our democratic institutions, or our religious beliefs. They do not trust us. Based on all this we are not inclined to trust them with the future of our people."

"Madame President," Adama began respectfully. She was playing the democracy card again. "We cannot escape these people. With their capabilities, they can find us anywhere. A military solution is not an option. We cannot withstand them in battle."

"Then, Admiral, we have to determine how to put safeguards around ourselves. What are our options? What do we need?"

"Madame President, we need everything. We are so low on ordnance; I doubt we could defend ourselves against someone on our own level. We are low on all supplies. Let's agree that the situation is desperate."

Heads nodded. Murmurs of agreement passed around the table.

"Then, we have to decide if this is a permanent base or is it just a re-supply stop? If it is a temporary base, is it short term with a longer term base which they will choose for us? Or is it a long term temporary base?"

"Our first priority is to get re-supplied and make repairs," answered Adama.

"Fine, we have to know what to decide upon, so, temporary or permanent?"

"I move that this is temporary," spoke one of the Council of Twelve. They took a vote and agreed on temporary.

"Long or short term?"

"It really depends on how long it takes to make repairs," answered Adama. "Best guess at least six months to a year. To do it properly, longer."

"We have to decide if our political situation is stable enough to survive for a year."

"We have to determine what the price for all this assistance is going to cost," added another Council member.

"They say they want knowledge," said Apollo.

"Even if we give them our entire database, they can't utilize it for years," the financial aide stipulated. "The start up times and manufacturing problems they face mean they will want something up front. We don't have anything. So what do we trade? How do we set up a system of exchange? I'm sorry; we can't give them our entire database."

"We should have access to theirs as well," Roslin added. "We need to be granted credit and keep a record of our transactions. Then we need to figure out how we value whatever it is we want to trade whether it be our labor or personal goods."

"We have to find out what they need," said Starbuck.

"More to the point, what do we need to rebuild the ships? Are our ships so damaged we are forced to settle down with them, Admiral?"

"What choice do we have?" Adama spoke with hard sad tones. "I'll repeat this again. They are so advanced that they can find us anywhere and did."

"So either we become indispensable to them," said Roslin, "so we can negotiate better situations; or, we make such a nuisance of ourselves and a drain on their resources that they want to be rid of us."

"We have to determine their vulnerabilities." Apollo thought a moment more and added, "We also need to determine their resources. For that we need a coordinated intelligence gathering operation."

"We need to know who their friends and enemies are." Roslin looked directly at Adama. "People this arrogant must have made some enemies. We need to find out if there is anyone strong enough to stand up to these people and whether or not we want to join up with them or use them to manipulate a solution."

"That makes sense, ma'am," Adama sighed. "I'll see if I can find out."

"Fine, we have an external plan. So now we have to deal with internal issues." Roslin directed everyone to that section of the briefing folder. "Under which conditions can we allow our people to come into contact with the aliens?"

"Which portion of this briefing is classified?" Apollo realized that the civilians were not accustomed to such matters.

"Most of it for now," replied his father. "We don't need to poison the atmosphere before we have to."

"We must calm our own people. They can not get off these ships before they pass medical quarantine," the Doctor said. "This requirement is not negotiable. We would do the same thing." Heads nodded. Some people shrugged.

"We have to consider taking the city," Roslin's eyes grew hard. "I learned my lessons on New Caprica. Draw up contingency plans. If we can get into their systems we can overwhelm them by sheer numbers in an emergency."

"We must organize enough to do that," said Vice-President Tom Zarek. "We must find people willing to pretend to collaborate with them as we had pretenders among the Cylon administration. Lt. Gaeta did everyone the greatest service providing copies of plans and intelligence."

Zarek nodded in appreciation to Lt. Gaeta, who glowed. So many people had given him a hard time after the rescue for being Baltar's right hand. In actuality, he had been a key element of the resistance passing on vital information straight from the President's desk.

"We need more. We need a whole secret society that can find out their secrets and enable us to discover a defense. We need every ounce of intelligence on this galaxy and how they access Earth."

"We need to determine how they access Earth from another _galaxy_," Apollo added. "Make that a priority. If we can do it too, we may be able to contact Earth leaders who may not be aware of this secret program. They may be willing to grant us sanctuary if they knew what's going on out here."

"Pillow talk is a very effective tool," Zarek stated simply and made some notes. He hadn't collaborated with the Cylons on New Caprica and so wasn't impeached along with Baltar. At the execution pit, he and Roslin came to a meeting of the minds. Zarek was competitive with Roslin but he respected her. In fact, he abdicated in her favor allowing elections to ratify her presidency. In return, he was her V.P.

Roslin banged her hand on the table startling everyone. "Only those authorized by my office are to engage in these activities. The answer to all inquiries is 'speak to the President.' Don't make me look like a fool going behind my back. And Mr. Zarek, whatever incidents of discontent are threatening our united front, I am holding you responsible. Sit on them." Roslin gave him a stern ferocious look.

"I resent the implication, Madam President. I am the Vice-President and,"

"Feeling guilty, Tom?"

"No, no of course not, why should I?" He huffed.

Roslin gave him a look and proceeded. She knew Zarek was up to his old tricks in new directions.

"These people are some kind of totalitarian military society. That they could keep such a monumental secret and devote the resources of Earth to secret military ventures is appalling. They seem polite enough on the surface, but they act like fascists. Their military runs the civilian affairs, which is against everything we believe. We must prepare to resist them in every way we did the Cylons, only this time we've had practice."

"In other words, keep smiling, get what we can, find out all we can, then we can plan a proper resistance." Adama looked at his staff. "Each one of you knows what is at stake.

"We need to be saved from our saviors. Play your part," ordered Roslin. "They are hiding something, something big. I feel it in my bones."

* * *

"I look fat," Major General Jack O'Neill concluded as he stood sideways in his mirror.

"Sir, you look fine," assured Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter. "Good as ever."

Jack gave a small rueful smile.

"You look stunning, Colonel."

"Yes, sir."

"Is that _ANOTHER_ decoration I see, hmmm?"

"Oh, just a little thing I picked up along the way." She grinned back.

"Here, allow me," Jack reached out to straighten the blue ribbon with the medallion hanging from her neck. It didn't really need adjustment. Jack was delighted she had been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, America's highest and rarest honor for people who have served in the Armed Forces. In his opinion, it was about damn time too.

"We are going to be late."

"We can't be late. Nothing happens until I get there."

"Yes, sir."

Sam took in the fine figure of the Military Commander of Atlantis Base. He was always in form. A natural metabolism that efficiently utilized his calories helped. The man aged well, too well for any mere mortal. He was like fine wine, only getting better with time. His silver hair and taut skin did not show his 55 yrs. With all the times he had been in the Sarcophagus, most of his ailments had been alleviated. The rest were fixed by his good buddy, Thor-Supreme Commander of the Asgaard Fleet.

Jack shrugged and put on his dress blue coat and tie. He had sent for Carter to have a look at the Colonial's technology. It was an excuse. McKay was competent enough. Yet, she should be here considering she had saved his ass more times than he could count... and came up with the McKay-Carter Gate String. To construct the Gate String, the Daedalus collected unused Stargates to string them between the two galaxies. In the center, a hub allowed a Puddle Jumper transport to switch between galaxy specific Stargates. Once at the hub, the travelers would exit one galaxy's type of Stargates and begin the journey again in another galaxy's Stargate.

_Oh well, one reason or another_, O'Neill decided. _I'm a two star general and so I can have my way on this._

Teal'c would be introduced another time so as not to spook the Colonials. They were plenty spooked already. One more look for good measure and he strode out of his quarters to deal with another day of problems in the Pegasus Galaxy and politics back on Earth.

_At least I am not stuck in Washington behind a desk_. _That sucked!_

Reaching the Control Room, the military personnel came to attention. The civilians simply greeted him. He spent most of his time with them and knew each one well. O'Neill didn't like his desk in Atlantis any more than he had any other desk, spending as little time behind it as possible.

"At ease," O'Neill commanded. The troops went back to what they had been doing. "Ready for the big day, people?"

"What big day would that be, Jack?"

Daniel smirked. He loved to jerk Jack's chain. Dr. Daniel Jackson had come into his own over these many years. Long past were the days of uncertainty and blissful ignorance. He had seen too much and done too much. In fact, Daniel was a leader in his own right now. Though not military, everyone from Major down deferred to him in battle if a senior officer was not available. The archaeologist had commanded space ships including the Odyssey in battle and made his mark. Today, Jack needed him for his diplomatic skills.

Diplomacy was really the purview of Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the civilian head of the Atlantis Expedition. The IOA, a multinational oversight agency funded the Expedition for the most part. She was the IOA's choice for their representative, approved by the President of the United States (POTUS). Although she ran the civilian operations in Atlantis, for military matters she had to defer to General O'Neill. And ultimately, he was here because of the military necessities. Whatever the reasons for the IOA funding and oversight, effectively, Jack was in charge.

For the ceremonies and negotiations, Jack needed Daniel for internal politics and as his aide de camp. Daniel knew he had to keep Jack from saying something terribly undiplomatic. Jack did not suffer fools gladly. So, Daniel was there to smooth the wrinkles of the General's gruff and direct speech. It was a given that that's how things worked.

Today of all days, Jack depended on Daniel and Dr. Weir to make sure things didn't get off track. He didn't need any unfortunate incidents. First contact was problematic at best. Rescuing over 40,000 refugees had those folks spooked and the folks back home frantic. In the center of the whole mess stood a very calm man about six feet two in the dress blues of a Major General of the United States Air Force. And that was freaking out the members of the Gate Alliance back on Earth.

So the IOA rushed to send Richard Woolsey as their representative until a delegation could be put together. In other words, they were too frightened to come before the situation was secured. His appointment was redundant because Dr. Weir was appointed by the IOA. What the IOA failed to appreciate was that the three top people greeting the new aliens were all American.

Of the Gate Alliance Treaty members, Russia was the only one with a representative at the day's proceedings. Russia had to content itself with having Commander Orlov, captain of the Borodino, present. His presence gave the Russians a sense of superiority. In the eyes of the other Treaty Members, they were partners with the Americans, already participating in battles against real aliens. Let the other member nations tremble in the dark. The Russian people were a courageous people.

"Are we ready, General," Dr. Weir came up and asked him?

"Are you ready, ma'am?"

"As I'll ever be, I've never rescued 40,000 people from another galaxy before."

"Oh pshaw, you'll be great." Jack grinned a little. "Between you and Daniel we can probably avoid all out war this time."

"Don't even think that, sir," Weir sighed. "They are here. Now we have to deal with each other."

"Not really," Jack answered as he picked an imaginary piece of lint off his sleeve. "The Asgaard will intervene if they get nasty."

"Yes, about that, when do you want to tell them about Thor?"

"Oh, phhhhhfffftttt, never?"

"We both know that's not an option."

"Then, not right away, ok?"

"Ok, but we have to careful. Someone can blurt it out."

"Has everyone been briefed about that?"

Colonel Carter nodded having conducted the security briefing. "Yes. We had an all hands meeting late last night. I told them to let us handle such a sensitive disclosure. These people are afraid of us enough. Don't make it worse."

"Sweet, to the point, why don't more people do that?"

"Learned it from you, sir," Carter suppressed a smile but cocked her head mimicking him. "What?"

Both smiled at each other and waited. Soon the signal from the Colonials indicated they wished to land. The Atlantis control room directed them in with an escort of F-302s. O'Neill had offered the transport beam but the Colonials were not ready to have their molecules scrambled.

For political reasons, the Colonials wanted to arrive under their own power. Actually, their press had arrived hours ago to set up and transmit the historic greeting for the fleet. It wasn't necessary since Atlantis could have broadcast the events for them. Once some of the techs compared notes, adjustments were made for the exchange of communications. Nevertheless, they had to do it themselves. Politics are the same everywhere. Appearances had to be maintained.

Jack and Elizabeth strolled at the head of the procession to the landing area to wait for the leader of the Colonials. After contacting the SGC, Jack even requested that Earth send a red carpet for the event. The new McKay-Carter Gate String between the two galaxies meant trips each way took about 30 minutes. With Puddle Jumpers going back and forth, the Air Force even managed to scrape together a minimal band. It was difficult to find musicians with the appropriate clearance. So, some of the Atlantis civilians helped. The rest was supplied from the Officer's Club amateur band members at Peterson AF Base in Colorado Springs. They added to the festive ambience.

"I want to see the looks on the President's face when she finds out she is eating something baked on Earth this morning." Daniel smirked to Jack.

"Bunting?" Jack's head swiveled around.

"Yes, Chief Harriman sent it along with the band and the carpet," Carter answered from behind.

"Yes, I didn't think of it. I just don't have the decorating gene."

Jack saw the IOA representative approaching. Both men knew each other very well having been captured by the Asuran Replicators and tortured for days. A new level of respect passed between them.

"General, Doctor," Woolsey nodded to both and took his place.

Colonial One landed. Once the doors opened, the band, for lack of other instructions, played "Hail to the Chief." Normally it was reserved for POTUS but this was a president too. Anyway, it was a simple tune and about all the band was prepared to play so it would have to do.

"Was that really necessary," Woolsey complained to O'Neill?

"Who knew," O'Neill answered? He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked around to find Daniel shoving a package of something at him. Irritated O'Neill tried to ignore it. So Daniel poked him hard in the back and shoved the bouquet of roses under his nose. Jack startled and managed a weak smile. "Thanks," he whispered. "Where'd you get these?"

"Thor."

"Right."

* * *

Inside the transport, President Roslin steeled herself to meet these people. The shock of seeing the floating metropolis sent her mind reeling with the magnitude of the situation. The city was larger than the Capital on Caprica. Starbuck reported that it also doubled as a space ship. Although Roslin had been shown pictures, seeing it was completely different. The only thought racing through her mind as she adjusted her jacket for the tenth time was the question, '_what have we gotten ourselves into_?'

"Ma'am, we have to go," Adama whispered to her. Her attention came back to the present. Then he exited and saluted as she stepped out. She took the lead and walked down the red carpet with the band playing some repetitive tune slightly off key.

All the representatives met in the middle. The band died down. Major General Jack O'Neill knew how to play this. He offered his hand which she took and then gave her the flowers. Their eyes met appraising each other. Jack left only what he wanted her to see on his face, geniality. Roslin knew that was exactly what he did. Then the other two representatives were introduced by the General. President Roslin presented her Admiral, William Adama, and her new Vice-President Tom Zarek.

The six leaders stood for photographs in various configurations. Then General O'Neill and President Roslin took the lead to the podium to make welcoming speeches. Jack prayed Thor wouldn't beam him up in the middle of his speech. Jack had warned him about snatching him in front of people today. For now, Thor was content to monitor the proceedings from the O'Neill II.

Afterwards, the group walked inside for a tour. All the diplomatic niceties observed, the group headed to the Control Room for a demonstration of the Stargate. One of the teams with Starbuck was at the Alpha Site waiting for the signal. O'Neill took Roslin to the ring and let her examine it and the wall behind it. Then he asked her to stand with him on the staircase to the Control Room. He didn't want an accident with the Stargate's vortex. The Control Room staff dialed the Alpha Site to send the signal and a team through.

When it disengaged leaving no one behind the Stargate, the Colonials gasped. Stifling a frown, President Roslin was certain it was a trick done with mirrors. A few minutes later, the lights came on. The wave of the kawoosh formed, startling the visitors. Out popped a Puddle Jumper. The same team that left moments before exited the PJ with more people. The visitors were struck dumb. Roslin understood the power of this thing as did her nefarious political rival, the Vice-President. Adama saw this demonstration on his last visit. He observed the look on Zarek's face and knew it meant trouble.

Exiting the Jumper were Colonel John Sheppard and Captain Kara Thrace, aka Starbuck. Both officers saluted the two leaders and received a salute back. Then applause rippled through the throng. It was symbolic that someone from each side came through together.

Curiosity ruled the event. O'Neill gave Roslin a tour of the Jumper. And then he left Sheppard to conduct the tour of the Jumper for the rest of the Colonial notables. After they were finished, O'Neill gave Sheppard the nod and the Jumper cloaked. Gasps filled the audience. O'Neill led Roslin back to the Jumper and let her put her hand on the invisible craft. They went inside, disappearing from view. More murmurs of apprehension passed through the Colonials until Roslin reappeared with O'Neill. Then everyone wanted to try it. Nearly an hour passed as the group played hide and seek in and out of the Jumper.

Roslin caught Adama's eye. A look passed between them. These people were formidable. _Use extreme caution_.

O'Neill seemed to enjoy himself immensely. It was fun to be the ones with the superior technology for a change. Nevertheless, O'Neill's true talent was observation. He didn't miss a thing in that exchange between the President and the Admiral.

_Well, we'll be cautious too. I know that look. The look between those two wasn't about caution. It was pure fear. Desperate people do desperate things._

To break the mood, he approached President Roslin and offered her his arm to enter the dining hall for the State Dinner. She had been warned that he would, as was their custom. Still she hesitated. O'Neill smiled down at her and whispered.

"It's just an arm, ma'am."

"Hardly, General."

She smiled that fixed smile public people have perfected. Then she took his right arm with her left hand. She waved at the cameras and let him escort her in. Together they led the procession to the tables. Inside the doors, Roslin stopped dead. It had been so long since she or any of the Colonials had seen such abundance. All the tables were laden with flowers, elegant place settings on fine linen, and crystal stemware. Silver epergnes held tiers of exotic fruits and candies high above the place settings. The aromas wafting through the hall made her mouth water. And it made her want to cry. She had no doubt that the people of the fleet were weeping right now with joy.

In the past two days, Atlantis had sent food stuffs and medicines to the fleet to alleviate the rationing. Some people refused to eat it believing the items to be poisoned or laced with drugs. Most people ate it anyway. When nothing bad happened, even the suspicious ones had to relent. The Colonials still wondered what they would be required to do for this bounty. No one believed that an exchange of knowledge was sufficient.

In any case people were chaffing at the bit to get off the Colonial ships. After years in cramped quarters without sufficient water to really bathe or clean clothing, they had had enough. With all that bounty and a beautiful planet down there, tensions grew as people realized their leaders were being extremely cautious. Whispers became grumbles which became murmurs and then out right demands to get the hell off those tubs.

Vice-President Tom Zarek knew it. He had incited much of it through his network of cronies. He saw what Atlantis had to offer. He wanted it offered to him, all of it. He casually assessed the gathering in the Atlantis dining hall with satisfaction. Never a man to think small, his thoughts percolated with all sorts of plans. None of them included the current administration. From his point of view, forty thousand Colonials could certainly overwhelm the few Earth Colonists already here. It was a matter of shear numbers and timing.

The dinner went well. To symbolize the breaking of bread together, Jack offered a loaf of bread to President Roslin. She broke the loaf in two, handing off one side to Adama and the other to Jack.

"I hope it is still fresh enough. I had it sent from Earth this morning."

A myriad of emotions played across her face before she regained control. That was the point. Jack was a master at inciting an opponent to reveal what they didn't want to reveal. He wasn't disappointed in the reaction.

"Fresh enough, General, but then you knew it would be." She laughed lightly.

_What an arrogant man! Here he is with all this bounty and he's rubbing my nose in it._

In a pique, she ate lightly not recognizing much of the food. Jack noticed.

"Daniel."

"Oh yes, um, Madame President, what General O'Neill is saying is he tried extra hard to please and delight you. It is symbolic that we brought this all fresh from Earth."

Jack gave Daniel a look of gratitude. He was about to tell her to shove it. She was in "high priss" today. He hated prissy women. He'd heard she'd been a school teacher before the disaster. As a minister of education, she was the only one left in the legitimate government so she became President by default. According to Mitchell's report, she was one tough cookie behind that façade of a school teacher. But it didn't stop her from being prissy today.

"Well, so you say. We have only your word that all this came from Earth, don't we now?" She smiled an insincere politician's smile.

"We have only your word that you are refugees and not part of an invasion fleet." Jack answered softly with steel in his voice. _Yeah, take that Ole Prissy Woman.'_

"What Jack is echoing is everyone's concern over integrating so many new people into this city."

"Oh I know exactly what the General is saying, Dr. Jackson."

At the next table, Jack noted with some amusement that the Vice-president was hitting on Carter. She had that look on her face. The look that said, 'I've been ordered to talk to you.' The body language said she wasn't happy. Glancing at some of the other faces, Jack continued his observations. His eyes missed nothing. Mitchell and Starbuck were having an animated conversation with some of the F-302 pilots. Jack sighed wishing he were at that table.

"Heavy thoughts, General?"

"What?"

"Such a deep sigh, I was wondering what could mar such a happy occasion."

"Oh just the passing of youth," Jack indicated the pilots' table.

Their laughter punctuated the otherwise discreet tones in the hall. Jack caught Adama's eye. They both exchanged the same look, remembering their younger days. More shrieks of hilarity came from them. Roslin too got caught up in their glee.

"So I was running out of air and had no choice," Colonel Sheppard paused to catch his breath. "There I was stuck in the void between two galaxies and this Wraith Hive Ship is going to explode. I had to do something, so I parked on it."

"You 'parked' on it?" Starbuck was laughing herself to tears. "Ok, I give, and then what happened?"

"I captured it." Sheppard grinned.

"Oh right, you captured it. C'mon, tell it all."

"Ok, there was a little help. You see there was only one problem with the ship. It was full of Wraith. And the Daedalus was damaged leaking air like a sieve," Shep could really tell a story. "We had to get over there because they had the only air around for millions of light years."

"Spinning yarns, Colonel?" Colonel Caldwell decided to check up on the table talk on his way to the restroom.

"I was just telling them about the time I, that is we, captured a Hive Ship."

"I see. Well, I'm sure there will be plenty of time to tell that particular tale later. I need you to do something about the next presentation."

"If you will excuse me, ladies, gentlemen, and Starbuck."

"Oh cut to the quick," Starbuck laughed. "I'll get you for that, Fly Boy."

"I hope you will," bantered Shep right back at her. "Fly Boy, eh? It's been a while since I've been called that." He stood up and left with Caldwell.

"Ok, what did you really need, Colonel?"

"Sheppard, it isn't wise to tell them those kinds of stories. Need to know. And they don't need to know everything we found out about the Wraith all at once."

"I know that," Shep replied. "I was going to omit that part and get to the part where Rodney was all gooey from being in the cocoon."

"It's also something they don't need to know today. Later," Caldwell remonstrated. "Remember the briefing. They are spooked enough."

"Right, I'll be more discreet," Shep agreed. With a smirk he added, "Oh, come on, they already know about the Wraith. But I'll tone it down."

Both men entered the men's room not noticing that they had been overheard by Dee on her way to the ladies room.

Dessert came. Jack loved this part, the part when people discovered chocolate. In his opinion, chocolate should be a tactical weapon taught at the Academy. The rich gooey chocolate cake was warm with ice cream on the side. Servers brought a whole cake to the head table to cut.

Murmurs of alarm passed through the assembly at the sight of the nearly black cake. They died down when Atlantis people were happy it was chocolate. Explanations still didn't suffice until the Jack took the first bite. Roslin was not to be outdone. She could be fearless. It was cake after all, no matter how disgusting looking. With that first bite, her eyes flew open wide with surprise. Involuntarily, she grunted a 'good.'

Jack leaned his head on his elbow gazing up at her. He couldn't help grinning.

"I told you so."

_She's a nice looking woman for her age. Too bad she's so stressed and…prissy_.

The coffee came. Most of the Colonials didn't like it until cream and sugar were added. Tea became the popular hot drink for them.

"A drink made with roasted beans." She took another sip. "It doesn't taste like beans. It smells better than it tastes. Why is that?"

"I wish I could explain it. One of our scientists can do that ma'am." Jack sent for the explanation.

"I have found many things smell better than they taste," Roslin began cautiously. Jack did not react. "In fact, wouldn't you agree General that many things are not as pleasing as they first appear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jack replied. "One time, we were on P4x-666 where Daniel wanted to translate some text on a column." He chuckled. "Daniel did the proverbial thing to 'stop and smell the roses' so to speak. That flower looked great but Danny there was sick instantly."

"Thank you for the image, Jack." Daniel wrinkled his nose, shaking his head, and pointing to his plate. Spreading his hands out in a gesture of 'what were you thinking?'

"What?" Jack tried to look innocent at him.

"Well caution is a good idea. We have a saying that one should look before one leaps."

"We also have a saying, 'don't run with… scissors'." Jack gave a weak smile, trying to look smug enough to pull it off. Roslin looked confused.

"Well, I'm sure you must have many stories like that, General. Only," Roslin paused playing with her food. "Only, I have learned that caution between people is a good idea. How many times does a young couple meet and think the other one is just the right match? They fall headlong into the throes of love, throwing caution to the wind."

"Daniel," Jack rumbled sarcastically. "Is that a metaphor?" Daniel started to reply, but Jack cut him off. "You'll have to excuse me, ma'am. I'm just not as slick as you political folks are. I'm a military man. I appreciate straight talk."

"Alright then, what would you say if I did not want to stay here?"

"Here, as in Atlantis?"

"Yes, what if I wanted to go on to Earth."

"Well, ma'am, that's a problem." Jack knew the subject would come up, just not this fast.

"Oh and why is that?"

"We've explained that. But just for fun, I'll do it again. Earth would be thrown into turmoil if you folks showed up."

"This," Roslin gestured to the room in general, "is a very big secret to keep. In my experience, such secrets come out when you least want them to."

"Yes, we've thought about that too. So far, we have managed." Jack indicated Daniel should jump in.

"Yes, ma'am, it is a secret that will come out," Daniel began thoughtfully. "We think it best if you stay with us for a while. Maybe in a few years the secret will be told. Then, perhaps those who want to move on can go to Earth. Or, they may want to go to one of our colonies on another planet. Or they may want their own planet either here or in the Milky Way."

"So we can't go to Earth because of your politics. We can't leave Atlantis because you say the Wraith will attack us. It seems we have been effectively captured?" Roslin made a small moue and poked at her cake.

Jack watched Daniel protest. Jack got pissed. So he cut to the chase.

"Wait a minute. We just saved your asses," Jack hissed. "Lady, you want to go, don't let the door hit you in the ass. If the Wraith get you, my hands are clean."

"What General O'Neill means is that we offered you a home with us. Offering someone sanctuary in one's own home is not 'capturing' anyone."

"No, Daniel. It means she's free to leave right now. But I'm not bailing them out this time." Jack glared at Roslin, put his napkin down on the table and got up to go. "Dinner is over."

President Roslin put a hand on his arm stopping him. She looked up at the stern face of a general and knew she had overstepped.

"Now General, I'm sure there's only a misunderstanding. My choice of words was…unfortunate."

Jack leaned over and whispered, "Ma'am. I say exactly what I mean. You want to leave?" He gave a head jerk towards the doorway, "Go."

Roslin whispered back, "call it what you will, we both know what this is. But I'll keep your offer in mind."

She smiled for the cameras and laughed as if he had told her a private joke. Only O'Neill wasn't laughing.

"I need some air."

He stalked off. Admiral Adama saw the exchange and had a pretty good idea what had happened. He excused himself and went after O'Neill.

"A minute, General?"

Jack turned in place with his eyes to the ceiling and then faced Adama with both hands gesturing wide. "And what do you want?"

"I want to talk to you man to man."

Jack looked at him impatiently. Both men were exasperated, but not with each other.

"I don't care what she said. Let's forget about what happened. We are talking about two generals that have come into contact. Put yourself in my shoes and tell me what I need to be told to be comfortable. You know our situation. You know what we need. Tell us the conditions for your help."

Jack cocked his head without answering. But he was listening.

"The only thing we have is our honor. I cannot prove to you that we will keep our part of the bargain. But I will give you my word that I will uphold my end if you will give me your word you'll help. I need the word of a general. I don't care about anything else. No treaty, no voting, no council."

"So none of that rigmarole," Jack was impressed. Adama just cut to the chase. Impressive.

"Our handshake is as good as it gets."

"You'll get our offer in six hours."

"You know what we need. Come with something reasonable and we'll work it out. We are not politicians. We are not playing games."

Both men were satisfied and shook hands on the agreement. They nodded curtly in respect. Jack activated his headset.

"O'Neill. Daniel, meet me in my office now with Woolsey."

"You rely on Dr. Jackson. I still don't understand his position in all this."

"He knows me," Jack said with meaning. "You can't ask for better than Daniel."

"Saul Tigh is like that for me."

"Let me get them started. Enjoy the dinner. Elizabeth went to a lot of trouble to bring all that from Earth today."

"You're not kidding, are you? You brought it from Earth?" Jack nodded. "Today?"

"Yes Bill, especially the bunting. We wanted to please you."

"You did, Jack. You did."

A few minutes later, the three men gathered in Jack's office. He told them about his talk with Adama. Woolsey was impressed and pleased. He had come to respect Jack very much. With his legal mind and Daniel's finesse, the three crafted the outline of a document. Jack left them to flesh it out before they called in Weir for her expertise with treaties. After she took a look, they called in Colonel Caldwell since he would have to judge the logistics as the Daedalus would be doing some heavy hauling. After five hours, Jack came back to read the document and make his changes.

"Can you sell this, Dick," Jack queried Woolsey?

"I'm sure I can. The dollar cost to supply and maintain 40,000 people for a couple of years is under a $100 million. Figure 80,000 man years direct plus delivery and some extras are peanuts by comparison to what we can get. It's too small an amount even to be a line item in the budget. Securing the capital for the cost to repair the ships and the infrastructure will be more difficult. I estimate we need at least $40 billion. But Thor said the Asgaard will help. Part of the investment will be offset immediately by the new weapons and technology we acquire. The rest will be offset by trade with the Colonials for non-military information, medicines, and technologies. We can spread the effort over two or more years. I can sell this no problem."

"Remind the IOA that these ships significantly improve our security here. We don't have that kind of production capability for years. With the ship losses we've sustained recently, their firepower and transportation helps plug a big hole." Jack made a notation. "I'll ask Thor what he can contribute."

"Ok, I'll get this revised. Give me fifteen minutes," Weir told Jack.

"Somebody call him in," Jack requested.

A few minutes later, Adama knocked on Jack's door. He felt apprehensive. The conversation with Laura Roslin had been heated, to say the least. In the end, she realized they had no choice anyway. They were stuck until the ships could be repaired and re-fueled. Then they both went to view some video of Wraith eating humans, destroying a world, and more video on their ships. Laura was sickened. Adama held it in. These folks weren't kidding about the Wraith. Their situation was dire indeed.

"Come in, Bill."

Jack stood up and moved to the comfortable chair next to the sofa in his office. Adama moved to the other one and angled it to face Jack. He sat down and got comfortable. He hoped this was a good sign if Jack wanted to do this in a more relaxed manner. It sent the right signal.

"Bill, before we start I want to say I think we put together something very good for everyone. Win-win," he waited for Adama to acknowledge the concept.

"Go on," said Adama."

"You saw the video of the Wraith feeding?"

"Yeah, horrible."

"Um, yes, so the main issue is to control any information about this base and keep it top secret.

"Understood."

"Cooperate." Jack paused assessing the reaction, so far so good. "We can protect you as long as you keep our secret. People from other planets cannot be told about us. It will get back to the Wraith. So, your leaders must agree to keep this information classified. No one can know where you get the help."

"You can count on me, Jack."

"Then here's the deal in a nutshell. We want to locate your people temporarily on a nearby planet. The population was wiped out by the Wraith. Fortunately, they are no longer in this sector and are not expected back. We can track them. The reason we picked this world is because it is so close and is ready for habitation.

As a sign of good faith we will give you access to the Gate network, providing you let us know about the traffic through it. We won't try to stop you. We just need to know where you go and to whom you speak. The same applies to your ships. You give us the manifest. We don't want to track you. We just want to know. We are not going to patrol your skies. Just keep the agreement. We want a team watching the Gate at all times. We are concerned about who might show up. Our teams won't interfere. But our secret is too precious." Jack saw that Adama was not so happy with that condition. "We don't have to share the Gate system, but we want to show we are respecting your autonomy."

"You would do that? Teach us to use the Stargates," Adama was pleasantly surprised? "I'm impressed, Jack." They exchanged glances of appreciation. Jack went back to the list.

"We will help with the repairs to your ships. I don't know how long that will take. We don't know what you need. Give us a briefing. Tell us what you need. If we can tell you where to get it here, we will. If we have to bring it from Earth, we will. If we don't know, all our teams in both galaxies will be informed. They will be told to look for it.

In the meantime, we will supply you for two years after which you should be mostly self-sufficient for the basics. Supplies will be delivered to a third planet where you will pick them up. Under no circumstance are you to come here by ship. The Wraith could track you accidentally. All travel here is to be by Stargate, by permission.

We want to put an Iris on your Gate so you can control who comes and goes. If you close the Iris anyone in transit will die on the way in. If the Wraith send a scout ship through, you close the Iris so more don't get in. We have weapons that can shoot down a scout ship."

"Good to know." Adama looked thoughtful.

"We will provide you with briefings as soon as you are ready. But we shall conduct them with you on that planet. We call it Arula. You can call it whatever you want. In six months, you will establish a permanent liaison office here."

"Two months, Jack."

"Hmm, fine, two months," Jack conceded the minor point. He knew he had to give up something. "We have negotiated many separate military alliances and trade agreements with various peoples. If you are having difficulty getting something with a trading partner, we will help."

"How do we pay for all this?"

"Upfront you give us any weapon that can defend against the Wraith, Cylons, or our version we call Replicators. That means all related documentation, too. No holding back. The rest of your information we can acquire through fair trade to offset what you owe or to create a balance with us. Let the others work that out.

Upfront, you agree to a mutual defense pact. If the Wraith or the Replicators come banging on the door, then we help each other. We will operate as two separate military forces, coordinating the defense against a common enemy. After you settle in, we can think about some joint exercises."

"I need to know you won't leave us stranded there."

"We won't abandon you. We are talking about making a sizable investment in you folks. Your senior staff will have additional talks with Woolsey, the representative from the Oversight Agency, Dr. Weir, and Dr. Jackson. You will select your delegation to send to Earth. They will go with Mr. Woolsey and Dr. Weir."

Adama startled slightly not expecting that request to be granted so easily.

"Moving on, there has to be a decision resolving your prison population. We can't maintain them here and we don't want them getting loose." Jack spread his hands. "That's the deal, Admiral."

"Fair enough," Adama stood up, extending his hand. "You have my word."

The two men shook on it. Adama read the paper to check it, and signed for the receipt of them, accepting his copies.

"I was right about you, Jack. Let me go talk to President Roslin."

Jack watched him go, knowing that she wasn't going to be happy.

Once in the room with President Roslin, Adama handed her the summary of the terms.

"You signed this without even talking to me?" President Laura Roslin said gritting her teeth in hushed tones.

"Actually, we shook hands on it." Adama sighed. "You gave me the orders, ma'am. I performed."

"You exceeded your authority. Didn't I tell everyone that all negotiations had to go through my office?"

"And then you decided we had to make them give these very concessions. It is a military matter. I am within my rights. I had to protect the fleet."

"What do you think I am trying to do? We are not like them. The military is subordinate to the civilian government." She went back to the items on the two pages. "We can not appear to be divided. The least you could have done was to show it to me first."

"I told O'Neill to give me his best and last offer. I gave my word I would do it. He did. There was nothing to negotiate."

Roslin shook her head and sneered. "They get to monitor everything that passes through our Gate? What are they the hall monitors at school? I'll tell you what they are. They are our keepers."

"It provides nearly everything the council decided we wanted to achieve. You can nitpick it but there it is. Now, do you ratify it or do I have to resign?"

She stared at him, incredulous. She could not have him resign now. He knew it perfectly well. He would resign if she asked, obeying the law. Then, the Fleet would mutiny. They would follow him into hell and had. Adama had backed her into a corner. If she retaliated later, it would be petty.

"Okay, Admiral, you won this one."

_But I won't forget it,_ Roslin thought. Adama could see it.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed."


	3. Chapter 3: Biology

**Chapter 3: Biology**

"Hey Starbuck, wait up," Lt. Colonel Cam Mitchell called over to his favorite Colonial. Since their first meeting on board the Colonial ship "Flattop" the two had reached an understanding.

"Hey, Mitchell," Starbuck answered. "What brings your sorry ass to this mud puddle?"

The new planet had its problems to be sure. The Wraith culled its inhabitants the past year, leaving the cities damaged. The good news was that the crops in the fields were nearing maturity. Even better, the infrastructure could be salvaged. So the IOA and the President directed Major General Jack O'Neill to settle the Colonials on Arula for an interim solution. Settlement was underway with the usual snafus.

Both sides wanted to be separate but not for the same reasons. The Colonials wanted to maintain their independence and identity away from the overwhelming superiority of the Atlantis base. They believed their society was so different from the Earth people that conflict would be inevitable. And they resented the patron-client relationship. However, without help, they were nearly finished.

Before things could become ugly, Admiral Adama cut a deal with O'Neill on a handshake alone. The Colonials would settle Arula. Earth would help them settle and repair their fleet. The Colonials had two years to become self-sufficient for the basics. After that, it would be a matter of straight trade for supplies.

Meanwhile, the two sides agreed to a mutual defense pact. With the extra ships, both settlements became more secure. Even the most diehard isolationist among the Colonists understood that they needed help. In the process, the Atlantis Base gained an advanced ally. But the Colonials were under the supervision of the Atlantis Base regarding contact with other planets in the Pegasus Galaxy. Keeping the secret of Atlantis Base's existence was paramount for both sides. However, it rankled the Colonials to have omnipresent watchers on the ground, no matter how helpful they were.

Keeping secrets from the Colonials was difficult. The IOA didn't want the Colonials anywhere near the city. Apparently, the vast majority had the Ancient Gene and a more complex assortment of complimentary genes passed down from the Ancients themselves. With those genes, Colonials could activate and operate Atlantis key systems. Keeping them ignorant of that fact would be difficult if they were underfoot. So moving them to a planet 5 light years away was a great solution. Permitting them in the city only by appointment and under guard was the order of the day. The Colonials knew O'Neill was hiding something big. They had no idea this was the issue. Just as importantly, they didn't know about Thor and the Asgaard. The Asgaard pledged to O'Neill the safety and security of Atlantis should the Colonials act aggressively. In return, the Asgaard were silent partners trying to determine if the Colonials' DNA held any answers to their cloning problems. The secrecy only added to the friction.

At the steps of an office building, Mitchell shoved his hands in his jacket. The early fall morning had a nip in the air. Cam checked the area to see if anyone needed him before he began his meeting with Starbuck. She was his interface with the Colonial Viper Squadrons and the ground crews settling the Colonists. He spied her out on the landing field. Strolling up he greeted her.

"I heard you needed my expertise at settling high strung pilots who are away from their mommies," Cam retorted. "What's your situation?"

"My situation," snarled Starbuck, aka Captain Kara Thrace, "is a lack of everything except sarcasm."

Besides directing settlement, her real orders were to get close to Mitchell and find out what sort of secrets the Earth forces were hiding. It was easy enough since Mitchell was attractive. He seemed to find her agreeable too despite their grudging admiration for each other.

"Show me your lists. Maybe we can alter the delivery schedules."

The two went into a building that had been a governmental administration hall nicknamed, 'City Hall.' Kara had an office on the second floor with a window overlooking the street. Over the past week, Dr. Rodney McKay and Dr. Radek Zelenka oversaw the emergency repairs to deliver water and power to the city. Currently, City Hall had electricity. A new naquadah generator supplied the main area of the city with technicians from both sides working swiftly to make the necessary interfaces. More engineers and technicians worked the water supply problem.

A bulletin board on the wall of her office listed the projects and personnel assigned. Kara had a communication set up on her desk which rang constantly. She ignored it.

"Aren't you going to get that," Cam asked surprised she ignored it.

"They can wait half an hour. Now, did you bring it?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Maybe," Cam answered nonchalantly.

"Oh come on, you can't do this."

"Yes I can."

"No, or I'll sic President Roslin on General O'Neill."

"So we've escalated to threats this quickly?"

"I can make that serious personal bodily harm if you prefer."

"Well then, I don't see how I can hold out." Cam reached in his pocket and withdrew a chocolate bar. Kara moved for it but he held it out of reach. "Not so fast, Starbuck, you owe me."

With a wicked grin, Starbuck sidled up to Cam putting her moves on him. He looked down at her with interest. Slowly she put one arm around his neck to draw him down into a kiss. Suddenly she had him in a headlock. Then he had her on her back on the floor, pinned.

"You haven't been practicing," he admonished her. Holding the chocolate bar just above her head, he slowly unwrapped it and took a bite. "Mmmmm, good."

"Oh you'll get yours, Mitchell."

"That's what I'm counting on." He handed her the candy bar and piled a stack next to her. Then he got up. "Practice makes perfect." He turned his back on her and went to the list.

"You'll never know," she retorted biting into the chocolate. Her eyes rolled back in her head enjoying the treat. "Anyway, we've got power up in 30 percent of the town so we can begin settling about 1,000 people today. We've got water in 100 dwellings this morning. Dr. McKay says that number will be up to five hundred by late tomorrow. Think he can do it?"

"If McKay says late tomorrow it will happen tonight."

Cam studied the map and the colored lines demarcating where repairs were complete. Blue lines were for water. Red lines showed power. Yellow highlights showed working sewer lines. All were concentrated in the town's center.

"Well, your Dr. Beckett is very thorough. He's processed several dozen people this morning so far."

"We have twenty teams of medical personnel arriving this morning. They should speed things up. We've allocated all our medical supplies to this as well."

"Can you afford to do that? What if you have an emergency?"

"More will arrive soon enough." Cam wasn't going to tell her that Thor had a list and was enroute. The new Asgaard ship, the _O'Neill II_ had their next generation engines which made transport between galaxies happen in hours instead of the three weeks it took the _Daedalus_ to make the trip.

"Yes, you must have a really big ship to haul things back and forth as you did with us, huh."

"Yes…we've got one here and there."

"When can I see it?"

"I'll let you know. Right now we need to know your progress," Cam directed her attention back to the reason for their meeting.

Meanwhile, President Roslin was meeting with Dr. Elizabeth Weir, civilian leader for Atlantis Base. Dr. Weir came to make a welcoming gesture and give the President some good news.

"Madame President," Dr. Weir began. "We thought your office should have these." Her aide offered a large floral display. Roslin smiled her politician's smile.

_Don't they know flowers are not a high priority?_

"And we brought these," her aide directed a staff member to deposit a large box on a table. "This is a set of communications gear for you to use with your personnel and ours. Also, we wanted to make your office more comfortable. So we are supplying you with new furniture and rugs along with other items to make you more comfortable. Items being installed downstairs are for a kitchen and dining room. We are providing a chef and a kitchen crew to help yours transition to our equipment."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir. Your gifts are indeed thoughtful. However, we need so many things. It is difficult to know where to begin."

_What listening devices did you implant in them? Well, we'll find them soon enough. They must think we are fools._

"Well, this is just for today. We expect a shipment of more usual items to arrive later this afternoon. They will be deposited in the warehouses on the other side of town. Here is the manifest." Weir's aide handed copies to Roslin's aide. We had it translated for you. Also, there will be a number of new personnel arriving to assist."

"That is most kind. We didn't expect things to move this quickly."

"Oh well, when General O'Neill sets his mind to something, it tends to happen fairly quickly."

Weir didn't mention that if O'Neill asked Thor for anything it usually happened at light speed. She wondered idly how many military bases had things disappear last night. From her morning call to the SGC, Weir learned that several military bases were hysterical again. General Landry said that the President had ordered O'Neill to make Thor stop taking supplies randomly. They had been trying for years to have Thor go to designated supply depots. Well that never worked before. Thor just didn't get it or didn't care. At least now he was bringing refrigeration equipment so things wouldn't melt or spoil.

"There is one more thing, ma'am," Weir mentioned casually. "We have heard that the President and the IOA are extending you an invitation to come to Earth later this month. Do you think you will be able to make the journey that soon?"

"I'll have to consult my aides but yes, I think so." Her smile brightened. _Well well, this is news. Then we'll know if they really are from Earth._

"Very good, I'll let them know. Your official invitation will arrive with the other items later today." Weir paused not wanting to offend their new ally. "Ma'am, we are aware that your situation has been dire and that people fled with whatever they had at that moment." She paused again. Roslin looked annoyed. "Well, I hope you will take this the right way but I took the liberty of ordering clothing and other personal and household supplies to be delivered today as well. We have located what was a large store of some kind about a mile from here. So with your permission, we would like to locate those items there for distribution. If you have anyone who would like to help organize it, we would be grateful."

Weir didn't need the help. The Quartermaster corps sent plenty of troops to set up a PX (Post Exchange) for the Colonials. In fact, the entire contents of several PXs had been appropriated by Thor according to General Landry. Weir appreciated his warning.

"I'll see who can be persuaded to help." Roslin couldn't help being amazed at the response time. "I'm surprised such things are considered to be a priority. But thank you."

"Yes, ma'am," Weir answered nominally. "And ma'am, General O'Neill wanted you to know that he took the liberty of requisitioning a complete household for you. We located a house which must have belonged to the leader here. It's being cleaned as we speak. Of course, later, if there are items you do not want, we would be happy to change them."

"Thank the General for his thoughtfulness," answered Roslin. _That the man is too concerned with the trappings of power and creature comforts. How can I accept such largess when my people still suffer on board crowded ships?_ Everything about that man annoyed her. _He's demonstrating his power again. Such extraordinary power. At least he is a benign a military dictator for the moment. _

* * *

In a conference room within the City Hall building, Colonial and Atlantis delegates convened to discuss the upcoming meetings with Earth leaders on Earth. The Colonials were not convinced that these aliens were really from Earth. But, President Roslin instructed her Vice-President to go and make what progress he could.

"We've prepared this briefing for you so that you will know something about the people you will meet and the issues they face," Dr. Weir directed her remarks to Commander Lee Adama (Apollo) and President Roslin's aide, Lt. Felix Gaeta. "Afterwards, you will have time to construct your responses and questions. We want to clarify any issues we can before you go. And we would like to set the agenda for the meetings with various levels of government."

Dr. Daniel Jackson scanned the faces around the table. The Colonials were so paranoid it was difficult to penetrate the veil of suspicion they had toward the Earth people. Vice-President Tom Zarek attended this meeting while the President met with Colonel Caldwell in her office elsewhere in City Hall.

"That seems to be a little controling, don't you think Dr. Weir," asked Zarek with deceptive calm. Inside he was boiling. _Who do they think they are? It's one thing to make the most of the meetings. It's another to prequalify what we may or may not discuss and with whom. Still, we shall learn who's who among them. These agendas really serve to tell us who the decision makers are._

"Please understand that we are trying to facilitate your understanding so the meetings with other Earth representatives can be as productive as possible. We want you to know that we are delighted to have found you. And we look forward to a happy alliance which will benefit all concerned."

"We appreciate the kind words, ma'am," Apollo offered to smooth the situation.

"Please direct your attention to the program Dr. Jackson has prepared for you. Lights," Weir ordered them lowered so Daniel could start the audio-visual presentation.

"You will be received at Stargate Command, which is a facility under a mountain in a country we call The United States of America. The Leader is President Henry Hayes." Daniel startled to see looks of disbelief on their faces. Pressing on he told them, "You will be conveyed to Earth directly. There you will be given the opportunity to satisfy yourselves that you are truly on Earth. Everyone wants to reassure you that you are not stranded and will one day be brought to Earth later when the Stargate Program is revealed. At that time you can decide if you still want to go there. Until then, we shall work with you to achieve a lasting friendship.

For these meetings, we are asking that you prepare an agenda and provide us with the necessary protocols. Those issues that can be settled in advance will be addressed before you go. We want the meetings to be effective at the highest levels. President Hayes wants to talk about our collective vision for your future in the near and long terms. These meetings will be strictly structured as to topics covered. Both sides must agree on the agenda."

"Dr. Jackson, we appreciate the need to set the agenda," Zarek responded. "What we want to know is how we can verify that the place really is Earth? Will we be allowed to take astrometric readings and other tests to satisfy ourselves?"

"Yes, absolutely," Daniel nodded. "We want you to be satisfied. Once you reach the destination, you will be allowed to perform such tests as will allow you to verify you are at Earth. Prepare whatever materials you need to take with you that will assist this process. We would like to have a manifest of those items so that your counterparts can bring similar equipment to corroborate your findings. After you are satisfied, you will have your meetings with our leaders."

"And if we are not satisfied," asked Apollo? "Will you still return us here?"

"Yes, why?'

"Oh, maybe it would not be in your interests for us to tell the fleet we did not reach Earth?"

"If that is your conclusion," Dr. Weir spoke softly but firmly, "we ask that you advise us of what is amiss. We want to work to resolve any doubts. Hopefully, we can avoid any misunderstandings that would give you the wrong conclusions."

"If we tell you, then you could rig the situation to convince us," Zarek stated plainly.

Startled looks passed around the table.

"Look, we are from Earth. So we have nothing to hide," Dr. Jackson said patiently. "We don't want to run into a situation that can not be verified because your ancient stories have it just a little bit wrong or the interpretation could go in more than one direction. Things can get twisted in two thousand years."

"Besides stories, do you have hard scientific facts that can be checked," asked Dr. Rodney McKay? "We can't verify fairy tales."

"Fairy tales?" Apollo looked confused.

"A myth or fantasy story about imaginary beings," Dr. Weir replied. "What Dr. McKay is trying to say is that we want to be able to prove scientifically that you have arrived at Earth."

"Understandable," agreed Apollo. "I believe we can provide that information, once we have arrived and conducted our tests our way first."

"We have to verify some points along the way," Zarek insisted. McKay looked irritated. "There are various identifiable markers along the way, constellations that have to be recognized in a sequence over a distance."

"He has a point," Apollo said to Dr. McKay. "There are things we need to verify in steps before we get there."

"After the first sign is recognized we shall tell you the next and so forth until we reach Earth." Zarek leaned back thinking he had the upper hand.

"We can't do that because of the way we travel," McKay responded plaintively. He hated explaining things to non-scientists. "We don't travel through normal space. We travel outside of normal space so there are no markers you can approach directly from one site to the next. We don't 'jump' from point to point. We can't arrive at a place, let you make your observations, and then continue."

"He was thinking of the McKay-Carter Gate String. The only stopping point was the junction between galaxies where the Jumper would switch to the other galaxy's Stargates before continuing. But he knew he was not to discuss it with the Colonials. McKay looked around at the confused faces.

"What, surely you can calculate your position from your point of origination?"

"We have to look into the situation, Dr. McKay, and let you know," Apollo responded reasonably. "Our star charts may be different, you are correct. So we need to compare both sets."

"We can review your charts and let you know if we have a match," Dr. Jackson answered evenly. No one wanted them to know exactly where Earth was located. There was no way they were showing star charts to the Colonials. No one wanted them to be able to reconstruct the journey to Earth.

"Not acceptable," answered Zarek. "You can't hide the location of the planet from us."

"We have to get to know one another better before we tell you how to get there," Dr. Weir replied. "We have only just met. In time, I'm sure you will be told all these things. But for now, we consider the information sensitive."

General O'Neill heard the last part, while standing in the doorway. He was not amused.

"Look, you lose nothing by going," Jack walked in as everyone rose to show respect. He greeted Zarek with a handshake and let the Colonials greet him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, O'Neill turned to Zarek to speak man to man.

"Mr. Zarek," Jack began. "I gave Admiral Adama my word as a general that we would provide for you, rebuild your ships, equip your settlement, re-supply your fleet, and give you the necessary reassurances. That's the agreement. You agree to work with us on our terms."

"It hardly seems fair. You're calling all the shots. You could be anyone and up to anything."

"Exactly, and so could you." O'Neill eyed him patiently. "So understand me clearly. We are not disclosing the location of Earth. End of discussion. If you are not able to trust us, then you have my permission to leave." Jack indicated the door. He meant right then and there.

"We haven't begun to discuss all the things that have to be settled between us," Zarek argued, not backing down.

"When I said, you have my permission to leave, I meant leave."

"Leave?"

"As in leave, so long, farewell, hasta la vista bye-bye," Jack didn't blink staring Zarek down. Dangerously softly, Jack told him, "Go ahead, leave."

"When you decide to disclose, we can continue these discussions," Zarek nodded to the group. His team gathered up their materials.

"Your choice," O'Neill said with such firmness Zarek stopped in his tracks. Zarek stared at him as everyone sucked in his breath. A long pause ensued as the two men stood toe to toe. With characteristic smarminess, Zarek broke in to a broad grin and back peddled, chuckling.

"That's good. We understand each other. General, you play a good game of hardball. But we'll go along for now. You're right; we have nothing to lose by checking out the situation on … 'Earth.' If we aren't happy, we'll call it a day."

"We call the game," O'Neill answered, turning to the rest, nodding and making a pointed exit.

"I think we should take a short recess," Zarek intoned. With that his team left for the restrooms or the refreshments.

After he had gone, Weir nervously whispered to Jackson, "That went well."

"Oh c'mon, it's all a negotiation. You didn't think we could do this easily?"

"No, I suppose not," she sighed.

"If they really are as curious as they say," Daniel leaned in, "they'll find a way to accommodate us in order to get a meeting on Earth."

"Right, so what's next on the list," Weir asked Daniel to get things back on track? The two conferred with each other until the Colonials reassembled in the Conference Room.

Slowly, everyone took his seat again.

* * *

After the morning meeting with the Atlantis people, Roslin called her own staff together.

"All right, what have we learned so far," President Roslin asked of the group meeting with her. An in formal briefing with Admiral Adama, Major Apollo, and Starbuck began with Lt. Felix Gaeta facilitating the meeting for everyone.

"We know their level of technology is not consistent," began Major Apollo. "Some items are far behind other items. We believe they have scavenged an extraordinary amount of knowledge and devices in a short amount of time. In fact, we know that Atlantis was not built by them and only recently found."

"That makes sense," Starbuck replied. "I have looked at their fighters and seen some instruments which have no business on them. Some items can perform at a higher level than they currently use them. They don't realize certain adaptations would maximize utilities and eliminate much of the current equipment volume inside the craft. And some things don't seem to work unless certain people are on hand with some sort of key to unlock the mechanisms."

"Yes, it's very mysterious. They have to ask certain people all the time to start equipment," Gaeta agreed.

"Well, they are so militaristic," Roslin stated. "They have controls on everything. And everyone is ranked in their hierarchy."

"No, ma'am," Apollo continued. "I mean this is something weird. I can't explain it. But they know who can and cannot operate certain equipment like the 'Jumpers.' Only certain folks can turn on a Jumper, even minor systems like a door hatch."

"Planning on stealing one are you," Adama asked a little too casually?

"It crossed my mind, sir," Starbuck answered with her usual cockiness. She grinned at Apollo. "We could just say, 'oops?' And I know I could fly that thing and figure out what makes it tick."

"You are NOT authorized to steal a Jumper, Captain. I am not going to piss off O'Neill unnecessarily. Find another way. Clear?" Adama glowered at her.

"Crystal, sir," she answered firmly with a look. Adama stared her down. She got the message.

"Look, O'Neill has kept his word so far."

"So far," answered Roslin.

"And there is no reason to assume he won't continue. I heard he had to land on Zarek in today's meeting. I don't want that to happen again."

"Tom objected to their secrecy over the location of Earth. And…"

"I thought we agreed to find out surreptiously, not by butting heads."

"Yes, but…" Apollo began

"No buts, Major. When the time is right, we shall take our measurements and make our scans there. They don't have to know we can figure this out."

"Can we? I mean really, figure this out," Starbuck wondered?

"We take Apollo's Arrow and our scanning instruments," answered Lt. Gaeta. "If any of those things from the writings are still there and they let us take star sightings, we have a high probability. But if we piss them off, we don't go. In that case, we never find out with 100 percent probability."

Sighs broke the tension.

"How's your new friend, Colonel Mitchell," asked Apollo of Starbuck?

"Becoming better friends every day," she grinned knowingly. Everyone chuckled.

"Watch yourself, Starbuck," Adama commented evenly. "He's not stupid."

"Yes, sir, definitely not stupid, but I'll find out."

"Now," Adama began again. "Let's discuss the agenda with the Earth government."

The meeting lasted the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

A few days later, Starbuck had her hands full with directing the Raptors and other shuttles which were moving food and supplies up to the Fleet. The Colonial Fleet in orbit around Arula had a restless population eager to disembark to a planet. The hardships of space travel and the associated deprivations had everyone yearning for space and fresh air. The fact that food became more plentiful the past couple of weeks only made the populace more reckless as they partied in anticipation of their freedom. Once medical checks could be completed and the infrastructure repaired, the Colonials knew they would receive a much more luxurious situation than they had known in years.

Arula was mostly intact even after the Wraith culled the entire populace. With all the help from the Asgaard, supplies arrived quickly in the next generation Asgaard vessels. Personnel arrived courtesy of the Asgaard and by the Gate String linking the two Galaxies. The _Daedalus _remained to stand guard on the shuttles from Atlantis to Arula. Engineers, architects, technicians, quartermasters, Seabees, and the Army Corps of Engineers along with civilian contractors descended on the few villages left mostly intact to get electricity and water working and sewers pumping.

"Yeah, well tell him I don't frakking care what he wants. If he doesn't listen tell him that his ship will be the _LAST_ to get off," Starbuck listened in her comm unit. "I thought that would get his attention. Well yes I can make that decision. You can take it up with your mother for all I care. Starbuck out," she turned in frustration to find a smirking Cam Mitchell. "Yeah, what's your problem?"

"Oh nothing, Starbuck, ma'am," Cam mock placated. "Hoo daddy, aren't we testy this morning? You look like someone put a few burrs under your saddle."

She strode off in a huff toward landing shuttles filled with more technicians. Cam loped along and decided to play. He skipped ahead of her, walking backwards teasing her as she moved swiftly to meet the pilots who had landed.

"Not even a smile for me, Ms. Starbuck?"

"What the frak does Mizz mean anyway?"

"Oh for some it's a way to hide whether a lady is married or not. See this way, no one can tell."

"Are you trying to ask me something, Mitchell because if you are, just spit it the frak out."

"My, my, such language from a lady," he faked a show of shocked disapproval. "My virgin ears can't hear such words before, oh say, at least 0900."

He blocked her path. She halted impatiently.

"Here, what's the situation?"

"I have too many flights and too few ground crews. I have the wrong supplies on that side and the right people but in the wrong order over there." She continued to spout off all the confusion on the landing site.

"So in other words," Cam replied, "Snafu."

"What?"

"Situation Normal All Frakked Up!"

They both managed to snort knowing that such things are universal in bureaucracies. Then they went in to a Quonset hut to review the schedule and unravel the mess. By the end of the morning, transits were normalized enough for them to break for lunch and a rest.

Out by the supply station, Starbuck's husband, Samuel Anders was none too happy. He watched the flirtation, aware of his wife's nature. Still, he wasn't happy. Disgusted, he yanked at a box of rations and sauntered off in the direction of the Quonset hut. It was time to stake his claim.

* * *

A few days later, Jack met the scheduled Earth shuttle arrival. Since the IOA was not happy with the progress of the talks with the Colonials, they sent Richard Woolsey again. Several Earth governments already disputed the wisdom of dealing with these aliens at all while some wanted immediate contact. The political jostling forced Woolsey to travel back to Atlantis to make a first hand determination. The two men had formed a professional bond after suffering torture together at the hands of Asurans, local Human Form Replicators. Both Woolsey and O'Neill were considered to be experts on the subject of aggressive robot enemies. Hence they were viewed as a team by the IOA.

"Woolsey."

"General."

"In my office." With that the two men walked swiftly to O'Neill's well appointed office and shut the door. "How bad, Dick?"

"Bad enough," Woolsey sighed. They sat facing one another in two arm chairs away from the desk. "Politics aside," Woolsey heard Jack groan. "Politics aside, we do have a problem. As you know, most of the IOA members don't want these aliens to come at all. But a few think that they have a shot at making a separate arrangement for technology."

Jack tapped his watch and frowned.

"The real problem is with the Asgaard."

"How so?"

"Apparently, our ambassador to Orilla discovered that they have a Cylon in a laboratory."

"Oh for crying out loud! Don't those guys ever learn?" Jack groaned another 'oy.'

"And it gets worse."

"It gets worse?"

"This particular Cylon claims to be married to one of the Colonials. She's demanding to be returned to her husband. At first the Asgaard thought her programming made her say something like that to confuse them. But she persisted and now some of the Asgaard think she's serious."

"But we don't know any of this officially?"

"No, the information was passed along through back channels."

"They have back channels?"

"Kvasir has a friend who works with someone whose significant other…"

"What?"

"Some Asgaard's significant other…"

"No I got that part. What I don't understand is the term 'Significant Other.' I mean they don't, well you know."

"They still have emotional needs, General."

"Oh." Jack rubbed the hairs at the nape of his neck trying to shake the mental image. "So he ratted out the science club."

"Looks that way."

"Why?" Jack sat back. "What's in it for him to tell some lowly humans any of this?"

"We don't know. Unofficially, we do need to confirm it at the request of the 'science club.' If it's true, we could start a whole new set of problems with these people."

"It's a machine."

"A machine that emulates human everything, including giving birth."

"_WHAT_?"

"According to our sources, the Cylon claimed to have given birth to a hybrid human-Cylon child named Hera."

"That's impossible. It's lying."

"It gets even stranger."

"There's a shocker."

"Well, the Asgaard examining it determined that it did have reproductive organs."

"What?"

"Yes, and they function, or at least function enough to make the claim worth investigating." Woolsey frowned in distaste.

"That's just wrong on so many levels."

"Yes, clearly the Asgaard think it is a significant discovery that can help their situation."

"What situation?"

"Their cloning problems."

"How?"

"If machines can find a way to propagate biologically, then the Asgaard may have a solution in their hands."

"Oh no. Not that way."

"I thought we want them to find the solution. Right?"

"Yes, no," Jack paused before continuing. Did he want to disclose something sensitive about the Asgaard to the IOA? They knew most of it anyway. He continued, "Thor told me that they are looking into transferring their consciousnesses into mechanical bodies after the cloning stops working."

The look on Woolsey's face said it all.

"Asgaard minds in bio-mechanical Cylon bodies can not be a good thing." Woolsey became more horrified as he puzzled out the ramifications. "We don't know what that would do to their thinking or their ability to relate to purely biological life forms."

"I have to talk to Thor.


	4. Chapter 4: Questions

**Chapter Four: Questions**

**

* * *

Arula:**

Two alpha males squared off, glaring at each other. One man defended his territory, that being one Captain Kara Thrace, aka Starbuck. The other knew he had stepped in a big pile.

"Just keep it professional, Earthman," Sam Anders snarled at Lt. Colonel Cam Mitchell. They faced off inside a Quonset hut on the edge of the landing zone on Arula, the new Colonial planet in Pegasus.

"Hey man, she never told me she was _married._ I don't fool around with _married _women."

"I don't care who you 'fool around with' as long as it's not my wife."

Cam glared back. "I _said_ I was sorry. Nothing happened, I swear."

"What, you think you're the first?" He stopped piling boxes and turned back to Mitchell. "I know what my wife is like. Now you do, too."

"I got that." Cam looked away in dismay. He had been played. He just couldn't understand why. "Look, I really don't want to make any enemies. Let me buy you a beer later."

Anders stopped, realizing Cam was sincere. He looked away, too. He knew from Kara that she had been ordered to get close to Mitchell. But there were other ways, weren't there? Maybe he could do it. It just hurt so much.

"Sure, no hard feelings." Anders stuck out his hand to shake. Cam took it and met his eye. They exchanged that look that men pass between them. Anders knew Cam was genuine. It seemed a shame to use him. But he was the other side.

"Okay, I'm done here in two hours. What about you?"

"Same. But I don't have any beer."

"Not a problem," Cam grinned. "General O'Neill set up an Officer's Club of sorts in one of the Quonset huts we put up. Come with?"

"You sure they would allow a lowly Colonial in there?"

"Oh cut the crap. You're an officer. I'm an officer. Anyway, you are my guest."

"All right, then."

"All right, then. It's the double long one at the edge of the field, next to the city."

"I know that one. I'll be there."

**

* * *

Atlantis:**

"Sir, wait up," Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter called to Major General Jack O'Neill in the corridor on Atlantis. She caught up to him and smiled. "I just got done with our initial analysis of Cylon mechanical designs. These things are so far ahead of the Wraith biomechanical devices on their ships, well, to say that the molecular structure is similar is completely…"

"So way worse than Wraith doohickeys?"

"In the way they process information using molecules as we use binary code, you know ones and zeros…"

"Carter!"

Carter bit back the rest of the explanation. "Their biomechanical, er…doohickeys can not only regenerate, but they can reproduce. It's not just replications. There is cellular mitosis, with mitochondrial DNA evidence to support…"

"Ack!" He threw up his hands to stop her. "So, what do we do about it, Colonel?"

"I don't know yet, sir."

"How about biological warfare techniques?"

"We're looking into it. We have a list of efforts the Colonials made against them. But they only recently had samples of the materials because they captured a few 'skin job' Cylons."

"Skin jobs?"

"Yes, the ones that look like humans, they have biological tissue and blood, sir."

"So not 'toasters' like we thought?"

"Sir, this may be an entirely new form of life we never expected."

"I don't want to hear this."

"But sir," Carter continued. She touched his arm to stop him. "The ramifications of this are enormous. Do you know what this means, sir?"

"Pretend I don't."

"The Asgaard, sir, would…"

"DON'T … don't go there, Colonel. Am I clear?"

"But…"

"Clear?"

"Yes, sir," but Carter couldn't let it go. "Sir, you have to admit the possibility of using this technology to build Asgaard bodies that can reproduce would well, make them grateful."

"No, Carter, I don't have to admit anything." Jack bent over to her. "Do _you_ have any idea what would happen if they did?"

"They would solve their cloning problems of diminishing returns."

"No, Carter." He waited for her mind to catch up.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Jack hissed. "So I am ordering you not to disclose this to any of the scientists working on this. And I'm ordering you to stop investigating it until I have a chance to talk to a few folks. And no one tells Hermiod before I give the okay."

"Yes sir, very wise," Sam answered.

"Sooooooo, glad you approve, Colonel," Jack snarled sarcastically. He moved off toward the Control Room, leaving Sam stunned by his reaction.

**

* * *

Arula:**

"Madame President, we have settled the agenda for our trip to 'Earth' and for the meetings with their representatives there," the Vice President informed her. He stood there while she looked at him, carefully looked at him.

"Tom, I'm not going."

"But, I thought…"

"No, my place is here, at least for the first trip. If the delegation does not return, the Admiral and I have to be here to take action."

"Ah, you still think they are imposters?"

"I don't know. No one does for a certainty. They are not going to decapitate our leadership structure with this gambit. It's enough that Cassandra is going along with so many of our scientists."

"I'll go, ma'am."

"You? Why would you risk it?"

"I don't think they are lying. Besides, you need someone of rank in case they do decide to meet with us."

"Their 'President' is not meeting with us, just some ministers and flunkeys."

"Well, they could change their minds. As your personal representative, I could try to feel out these Oversight Committee members. Maybe, we can find a chink in their solidarity about leaving us out here."

Roslin felt a slow smile spread across her face. She looked up at Zarek and shook her head. He shrugged.

"Worth a try."

"Next trip, Tom," she replied. "I need you here, actually."

"Need me? For what?"

"Believe it or not, you are necessary here. You are my successor. I will not jeopardize our leadership before we know it is Earth."

"Why Laura, I'm touched."

"Yes, well, if that's all, Tom?"

"Sure, sure, I'll let them know." He turned to go and swiveled back. "Necessary?"

Roslin nodded her head, smiling for real this time. He raised his eyebrows and seemed pleased.

_There is no way I am letting that man go to Earth first. He's not getting more political capital than he already has out of this. Besides, he has his uses._

**

* * *

Atlantis:**

With the problem of the Cylons and the Asgaard, O'Neill decided the best approach to obtain the information was the soft approach. He hadn't been in Washington without learning a trick or two. So he called in his senior staff and issued his directives.

"Mitchell, Sheppard," O'Neill greeted them. "I have some delicate probing I need done. Either you or some on your staff have to get to the bottom of this. I can't afford to meet directly with Adama. Their internal politics being what they are, we have to tread softly. Their news people make life a misery for the two of us. But make no mistake, the President and the IOA want answers."

"Yes, sir," both replied.

"Now, I can't walk up to Adama and say tell me about Cylons giving birth. Then they'll know we have them. And we don't 'have' them."

"Of course we don't, sir," Sheppard responded.

"No, actually we don't."

"But we know who does," Mitchell commented dryly. Sheppard looked at him as if he were an idiot. Mitchell commented casually, "the Asgaard do, John."

"Oh, right, sorry. So we don't have them and we can't tell them about the Asgaard. So what do you want us to find out exactly, sir?"

"Everything about the biomechanical reproduction process," answered O'Neill. "I need it from Adama by day after tomorrow for my meeting with Thor."

"I think I have just the conduit, sir," Mitchell answered with conviction. "I'm having a meeting with one of their officers later."

"Make sure it's the right one. We don't need this stirring up a hornet's nest before they send their team to Earth."

**

* * *

Arula:**

An hour later, Mitchell waited for Sam Anders as agreed. The afternoon was damp but sunny. Riding herd on a bunch of transport jockey's was not the best assignment for a lieutenant colonel. But handling back channel communications and working the intelligence angle was.

"Hey," Cam greeted Anders. "Come on." He guided the man into the temporary 'Officer's Club' generously provided for the construction efforts on Arula. The two men entered to the sounds of joviality.

"You have this many officers?" Anders stared at the sight of dozens of folks in the bar, the eating area, and the video arcade/pool room.

"Not exactly," Cam guided Anders up to the bar. Lots of defense contractors sent management to oversee and review the efforts. They had privileges too. The bartender came over to take their orders. "What kind of beer you like?"

"You brought different kinds?"

"Sure, light, dark, medium, porter, ales, Guinness, wheat, barley, hops, no hops, you name it."

"Um, medium, I guess."

"Two," Cam ordered. "And some of those fried pickles and potato chips." He grabbed a bowl of popcorn. "Here, you'll like this."

"What is it?"

"Popped corn, a grain, it's from my region of Earth called America." Anders looked at it suspiciously. Cam grabbed a handful and tossed some up, catching it with his mouth. Anders grinned. Not to be a sissy, he took a small handful and carefully tasted one popped kernel.

"Salty, crunchy, good," he took another bite. Then Cam appropriated another bowl and one with some nuts. The beers arrived in pint glasses. A basket of fried pickles with Thousand Island dressing appeared hot and sizzling.

"Here's to new friends," Cam offered. Anders raised his glass and took a swallow. He approved. Then Cam dipped into the fried pickles. "Not as good as my Grandma makes, but it will do out here," Cam joked.

Anders imitated Cam and discovered a new treat. "That is just plain weird, but it works for me." He ate several more. Cam spied a bowl of peanuts and dragged them over.

"These here are called 'peanuts' but they aren't really nuts. They grow in the ground but they look like nuts so we call them nuts."

The bartender put a hand out to stop Cam. Cam looked up with a question.

"We don't know if some of them are allergic." The bartender reminded Cam to be careful feeding the Colonials. Who knew what food allergies they had? So he and other food handlers had epi-pens to deliver anti-anaphylactic shock medications.

"Right, well there's only one way to find out," Cam looked with concern at Anders. "We know that a very few of us have certain food allergies. You could too. So, I don't want you to think we poisoned you or something."

"Like what kind of stuff?"

"Peanuts, peanut oil, shellfish, citrus, oh I don't know. There's a list somewhere. Dr. McKay is allergic to citrus. My sister is allergic to shellfish. She swells up and her breathing gets choked off. It happens even if a knife touched a cutting board where one was sitting. We have to be careful. So we stocked antidotes at all eating places here."

"That's really thinking. Thanks," Anders eyed the bowl of peanuts warily. Impulsively, he took one and ate it. They looked at each other. Suddenly he grabbed his throat, eyes bugging out. Cam yelled for the shot. But Anders stopped, obviously joking.

"Don't joke about that, man." Cam was relieved. "We are trying so hard to make a good impression, but…" he trailed off looking at the rows of bottles behind the bar.

"But, what?"

"Nothing," Cam sighed and took a pull on his beer.

"No, you were going to say something, say it."

Cam drank again, looking down at the bar. "It just seems like everything we do makes you folks…uncomfortable." Cam eyed Anders and went back to shoveling popcorn. Anders took a swig without answering. "Hey barkeep, we need some food, real food. You eat meat?" He asked Anders.

"Yeah, sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Ok, two burgers, with everything, and French fries, lots of 'em," Cam ordered. "Some folks don't, that's all. So I asked."

"Oh, that's nice." Anders drank his beer, munching on the peanuts. "I guess we aren't used to everyone being so nice."

"Wondering what ulterior motive we have?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah," Cam drank his beer. "I guess it wouldn't do any good to say, 'stop worrying.' Now would it?"

"No."

"Like my grandma used to say, 'beware of Greeks bearing gifts,' and all that."

"Huh?"

"Old folk saying, it means watch out when someone gives you something for nothing."

"Well, we've been through a lot."

"We know." Cam looked at him. "We have too."

"Doesn't seem like you are all that hurt by it. We lost our whole civilization, billions of people."

"We've been fighting too, same sort of enemy, different name, same number of people on the line if we fail."

"Replicators?"

"Yeah," Cam moved to let the barmaid deliver more popcorn. "Don't forget the potato chips." She moved a bowl over to him. "These are from a root vegetable we fry."

He took some and offered some to Anders. Anders didn't hesitate this time and munched along with Cam. "Another round here, please." Two more beers showed up with the food. Cam showed him what to do with the burger and fries, adding ketchup on the side. Anders followed suit. They ate in companionable silence. As the blood sugar came up for both men, they relaxed a little.

Anders took in the scene. It was ordinary except it was happening with aliens on an alien planet. At that time, more people arrived, and greeted Cam at the bar. They were invited to join a group. Anders was about to leave, when Cam smiled and pressed the invitation. Anders figured he'd rather become a fixture among them to find out things. It was an opening. They'd been briefed to take any opening and work the problem without butting heads if possible. Undercover operations, he understood. And he understood that the Earthmen were looking to open unofficial talks.

**

* * *

Atlantis:**

"I still don't understand how we are going to do this on a Puddle Jumper," Apollo said to Sheppard.

"The truth is I don't either, but it works." Sheppard looked uncomfortable with the white lie. He didn't really understand the physics involved. But then, no one did. "Did everyone pass through a Stargate so they can understand what is said to them on Earth?"

Sheppard referred to the language abilities gained once someone passed through a working Stargate. Doing it in a Jumper didn't always work. To be certain, the Atlantis personnel insisted that all the Colonials pass through to a third planet where they and their luggage were collected by Puddle Jumper. O'Neill didn't want them to make the connection that only the Atlantis Stargate could send things to Earth. Rather he practiced a small deception by constructing the journey in several stages, planning meetings in Atlantis before the trip to Earth.

"Yes, and I have to tell you Cassandra didn't like it one bit."

"Sorry to hear that," Sheppard commiserated.

Standing in the Gate Room on Atlantis, both officers waited as the dignitaries and scientists came down the stairs with Richard Woolsey from the I.O.A. Their gear and luggage had already been conveyed to Earth in a previous round trip to leave room for the passengers on this flight.

Before they got in, Cassandra, the new High Priestess, went through her prayers for a safe journey and to bless the jumper. Her assistant held up the images of the gods for her to invoke.

"May the Lords of Kobol bless this journey. May Zeus our lord grace this venture. Athena, we call upon you for wisdom and courage. Winged Hermes, the messenger, guide our flight to safety. So say we all."

"So say we all," responded the Colonials.

The Atlantis personnel couldn't help wincing at the sight of the idols much less of the pantheon of ancient Greek gods prevailed upon. The Colonials noticed. Again they were insulted, although nothing overt had been said or done officially. Cassandra ignored them and swept into the craft. The others took their places around her.

"Everyone, ready?" Sheppard inquired as one of the other pilots took his place in the second seat.

"We are ready, Colonel," said Woolsey.

The door to the passenger compartment slid into place separating the civilians from the pilots. Actually, it was done to keep the Colonials from seeing the process. After all, they would have to stop briefly at the halfway point and the Stargates would be visible. O'Neill wasn't taking any chances.

"This will take about thirty minutes, so, just relax," Dr. Weir advised them. The Jumper took off with a small lurch. "So, this is your first Jumper flight Priestess?"

"Obviously, Dr. Weir," Cassandra replied. "Have you done this much?"

"Oh quite a bit, but once we are on Earth we shall use more conventional means of transportation."

"Yes, our briefing covered your use of aircraft and ground cars," Apollo offered to keep the conversation flowing. For the rest of the flight, the chit chat seemed to die off. The Colonials were too apprehensive. At the halfway point, the Jumper stopped to make the transition to the Milky Way's Stargates before continuing. The Colonials were afraid. Thirty minutes had not passed.

"Problems, Dr. Weir," Apollo asked softly?

"Oh no, this is a scheduled stop," she answered evasively.

Shortly, they lurched slightly and were off again. Fifteen minutes later, the Jumper came to an abrupt halt, turning to aim the door to the Control Room at the SGC. The hatch opened and the compartment doors slid apart.

Dr. Weir stood up and said, "Welcome to Earth."

**

* * *

ARULA**

The day after Anders and Mitchell had their truce; Mitchell invited the Colonial for another meeting. O'Neill had a few more things on his mind and didn't want to make a federal case out of it. So Mitchell used his new contact to get some information for the General by asking to see Anders again.

"So, what's up," Lt. Felix Gaeta asked Sam Anders out on the street?

"I'm about to do you a favor, Felix."

"What kind of favor? It's not about Starbuck, is it?"

"No, nothing like that," Anders huffed. "Walk with me." He took Gaeta by the arm and led him off towards the landing field at the edge of the city. "You mentioned the other day that you are having supply problems because the Earthmen are a bunch of paper pushers. Well, I met a guy who can help. Interested?"

"Sure," Gaeta eyed Anders with suspicion. "Why aren't you using him if he's so good?"

"Personal reasons," Anders muttered. Actually, Anders couldn't reconcile himself to dealing with Mitchell after the incident with Starbuck. But he recognized Mitchell for a straight shooter and a guy who could get things done. "You want the contact or not?"

"I want it."

"Good, he's the tall one over to my right with the clipboard." Anders kept veering over toward Cam. "We're supposed to have a beer. I'm substituting you." With that the two men approached Mitchell and made the introductions.

"Mitchell, I didn't want to stand you up, but I have another appointment. I thought you might like to meet Felix. He is a wizard at organization. He's attached to Admiral Adama as his aide and he's been the President's assistant as well."

"Colonel Mitchell thanks for seeing me," Lt. Felix Gaeta stuck out his hand to Cam Mitchell in front of the Officer's Club on Arula.

"Nice to meet you, Felix, call me Cam." Cam nodded to him and then shook hands. Anders begged off and loped away. "So, Anders got you stuck with me?"

"Well, I've been asking him for some help getting some things straightened out. He said you could do something about the situation."

"I can try. Tell me over a beer." Cam gestured for them to go inside. "You're my guest."

"What is this place?"

"Officers' Club of sorts, at least that's what they tell me," Cam grinned. "But they do have beer."

"Sounds good, haven't had one in a long time."

At a table they shared some small talk before Cam decided to take the plunge. He had hoped to ask Anders, but this guy might be better. After feeling out the man, Cam knew he was well placed and intelligent.

"Are you settling in okay?"

"You know," Felix shrugged. "Okay I guess."

"Anything you need, for yourself?"

"I'm fine, but thanks." Felix studied his beer. Something told him the real reason for the meeting was not drinking. "What's on your mind?"

"I need some specific information about Cylons."

"Cylons?"

"I wouldn't ask this lightly."

"I know." Felix searched Cam's face._ This must be big or he wouldn't come to us like this. _Felix sat patiently.

"We are doing some threat assessment. A few of our folks have heard some rumors about these Cylons and we need confirmation."

"Like what?" Felix took a swig.

"We need to know about their ability to propagate organically."

"Uh huh, when do you need this information?"

"In two days," Cam played with his glass. "We need it from those who really know this stuff, in full, summarized, and no holding back."

"I can get it for you by tomorrow."

"I owe you one."

"Yes, you do."

"Now that that's over, tell me have you ever had popcorn?"

**

* * *

SGC:**

Upon arrival at the SGC, Dr. Weir gestured to the exit. Looks of disbelief and hope were on the Colonial's faces. Abruptly, Cassandra stood up and marched out. Dr. Weir followed, as did the rest.

It wasn't much of a sight. The SGC Gate Room's austere concrete bunker held little charm. The Stargate faced the rooms behind glass up above. With some dismay, the Colonials glanced around. Each had that disappointed look. With a whoosh, the blast doors opened to admit the welcoming delegation. Major General Hank Landry led the procession with an under-Secretary from the State Department and two representatives from the I.O.A.

Sheppard and the pilot came to attention.

"At ease, Colonel, Captain," said Landry. "Welcome to Earth, High Priestess."

Cassandra managed to compose her face for the greetings. With reserve, each person exchanged the greeting protocols as agreed. Since Dr. Beckett had cleared them medically on Atlantis, a trip to the Infirmary was unnecessary.

"This way, ma'am, we'll go to the surface immediately." Landry ushered them to the elevators. As arranged, they arrived at night so the stars and the moon would be visible. As it was summer, the likelihood of rain was less. Landry was praying no thunderstorm would happen. Once in the parking lot, they made their first sighting.

"One moon!" Sighs escaped from the group. "Bless the Lords of Kobol. The first sign is answered." Cassandra smiled for the first time. Then, Hermiod beamed everyone aboard the Daedalus, waiting in orbit. He remained discreetly absent as the High Council had instructed. It didn't stop him from soundly cursing the whole matter. His time with the humans was wearing thin with him. These particular humans spelled trouble according to his sources back home.

"Well, I'm not sure I like having my molecules scrambled so much," Cassandra eyed them, knowing full well that this was all agreed in advance.

The group went to the observation lounge while Apollo and some of the scientists went to the F-302 launch bay to ready the experiments. The Air Force didn't really have a good passenger friendly craft other than a jumper for the tests. And they certainly weren't going to use a Space Shuttle, lest the Colonials realize that Earth was so very backwards. The Shuttle was 1970's technology with some fancy equipment inside. The thing was so obsolete; it was difficult to renew funding for the fleet maintenance, so they were scheduled to be retired soon.

The preparations went quickly since the equipment had been packed configured to be accessed easily once the personnel were in place. Apollo went with Cam Mitchell, taking second seat. Cassandra and Lt. Gaeta went with other pilots. The ships launched smoothly off the Daedalus.

On the bridge Colonel Steven Caldwell and Richard Woolsey listened to the chatter from the ships. It seemed encouraging when Cassandra excitedly pointed out that Earth was the third planet from the Sun.

"Think they'll buy it, Mr. Woolsey," Caldwell asked?

"I have no idea. But she seems happy enough for now."

"They are a suspicious bunch."

"Yes, they are. Well, we would have done this in a Jumper, but General O'Neill wants them kept away from all Ancient devices. He doesn't want them to know they can operate things. And the I.O.A. agrees. That's why we sealed off the passenger compartment on the way here."

Caldwell grunted for a reply and reached for a pad to sign off on some request. "Well, that's why we're here. He doesn't want them to fly in our aircraft either. He thinks they are too primitive. So, we'll beam you around. Next stop, if they are happy is Souda Bay Naval Support base, Greece. We have the beam down coordinates for one of the warehouses and we've cleared the area just in case."

"Tell me again why we are sending them to Crete?"

"They asked to go. Apparently they have some connection to the ruins at Heraklion."

"But that's Minoan?"

"Crete has an important place in Greek mythology. Zeus, the father of the gods, was said to have been hidden there as a baby to save him from being murdered by his father. It's also the launch pad for Icarus' ill-fated flight. You know the one which took him too close to the sun, melting his homemade wax-and-feather wings."

"I'm impressed, sir."

"I took history in the Academy, Mr. Woolsey."

"Well, that's reassuring. Actually they told us that they wanted to conduct tests at the palace at Knossos. Although it's Minoan, it's built on the ruins of something far older. The palace dates from 1700 BC. So I wonder what they'll find."

"We sent the GPR and other devices earlier. If something is down there, we'll find it," Caldwell heard the pilots request landing back on the ship.

"GPR, Colonel?"

"Ground Penetrating Radar, it's one of our 'toys' we like to use for underground secrets. There are some other classified devices which we'll deploy if it looks promising."

"Oh, well, I hope they find whatever it is. I'm looking forward to going to Delphi."

"Yes, I've been there, too. The Oracle of Apollo at Delphi should be a winner."

"The priestess says that Apollo was the god of colonists."

"Then we have the same myths," Caldwell shot a meaningful look at Woolsey who shrugged.

"Sir, they have landed and are ready for the next set of tests," Major Gant announced.

"Direct them to the ring room," Caldwell instructed.

"We are going to ring them down?" Woolsey was confused.

"No, we have a cloaked Goa'uld Cargo ship to ride them over the planet. Then they'll come back on board."

"Teal'c says he's ready, sir," Major Gant reported.

"Fine, send them over."

**

* * *

Arula:**

The following morning, Cam got a message that Lt. Gaeta was looking for him at the Officers' Club. He finished his briefing quickly and made his way over to the double long Quonset hut at the edge of the city just a few blocks away. Inside, he saw Gaeta sitting at a table in the corner watching a basketball game. Cam stopped off at the bar to order a round for the two of them.

"Hey, Felix," Cam greeted him, swinging himself down into a chair. Felix casually pushed a folder over without taking his eyes off the game. "Interesting game, we have something like it."

"Ah, the Knicks game," Cam had seen it the day before. The bar showed re-runs of the latest games from home. He perused the contents. "Thanks for having it translated."

"That what you needed?"

"Seems to be, but I may come back with a question or two."

"That's ok. We expect it."

"So, no problems with the request?"

"No, the Old Man signed off on it."

"You ever meet one of these?"

"Oh yeah," Felix grunted.

"Do they really look like us?"

"You should know. You've got them."

"Um, no, no we don't."

"Save it. No one thought you destroyed them. And it's been a source of problems, you should know."

"Really."

"Uh huh, yeah. So what are you doing with them?"

"We aren't doing anything. We don't have them."

"And that means?"

"That we don't have them."

"I see. I'll pass that along. So who does?"

"A curious bunch."

"Well tell them to get rid of them."

"We did. But they are too curious for their own good."

"We might want one back."

"We don't have control. We recently learned about this through back channels."

"They're dangerous."

"We know. That's why we are trying to fix this."

_They've got Sharon. Helo is going to bust a gut. He's been crawling up my ass since this happened. Earthman, you have no idea how bad this is… or maybe you do. Well, the Old Man is going to be plenty upset when I tell him there's a third party involved. Backchannels my ass, I wasn't born for this cloak and dagger shit. But after New Caprica and this, I'm the Old Man's favorite spymaster. Apparently, Mitchell is O'Neill's mouthpiece. I suppose it's the only way to keep the Newsies off the scent…and Zarek's frakking vultures as well._


	5. Chapter 5:Call Signs

**Chapter 5: Call Signs**

**

* * *

Adama's Office**

On board the Galactica, Adama met again with Lt. Gaeta. With a sigh he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes to relieve the stress of the news. With so many of his critical scientists and his son, Lee aka Apollo, off on the trip to Earth, he had a dilemma. If the team came back reporting that the planet was not Earth, then there was a terrible political problem. Sharon would have to wait. If they came back reporting it was Earth, then a consensus could be built over what to do about Sharon and how to approach O'Neill and his people.

"Lieutenant, did they give any indication who might have control over the Cylons?"

"No sir, but my personal assessment is that this Mitchell was worried. Not that he said it in so many words."

"I see. Mr. Gaeta, for now, you will have to supervise this effort. But no one, and I stress no one, learns about this third party. I want a chance to think about this. Did Colonel Mitchell help you with the supply problems?"

"Yes, sir, he had the items delivered the same day."

"Well, then continue to talk to him. That's O'Neill's sign that Mitchell is his man."

"He did mention that they might have additional questions."

"Understand that these are O'Neill's questions. See that they receive the highest priority and keep me informed. Dismissed."

* * *

**Out on the Landing Field on Arula:**

"Why do you keep calling me 'Jesus'?"

The Colonial construction worker huffed at an Atlantis civilian contractor teaching them basketball. He was irritated. In fact, he was angry. The Atlantis contractor looked confused.

"Guy back there called you 'Jesus'."

"He didn't say 'Jesus'. He said, "Hey, Zeus!" My name is Zeus."

"Zeus?" The contractor grinned broadly. "Your name is Zeus?" He shook his head at the strange name.

"Yeah, Zeus," the Colonial civilian tossed off the ball and got up close and personal. "As in father of Apollo? Mt. Olympus? Don't fuck with me or I'll shove a lightning bolt up your ass? Zeus! You got a problem with that?"

"No, no man, I just didn't understand. Why are you Colonials so touchy about everything?"

"It might have something to do with the fact you laugh at us and our religion every chance you get."

"What?"

"Yeah, we see it."

"No we don't."

"The smirks, the eyeballs rolling in your heads, the cringing, we see it. And you know what? It stinks."

"Aw get over it," the contractor commented. "Believe what you want. No one cares about your religion that much."

"What did you say?"

"I said, no one… not me … not anyone gives a good goddamn about your pagan religion."

"Pagan? What does that mean?"

"Hey _ZEUS_, we got past praying to idols thousands of years ago. Where have you been?"

"What? What did you just say?" He shoved the contractor's shoulder.

"God forbids us to make graven images."

"God? Which god? Athena? Apollo? Artemis? Mercury? ZEUS? Or don't you know you heathen?"

"Look man, I'm just saying we aren't allowed to pray to other gods."

"So you think you are better than we are?"

"No, that's not it," the man tried to calm Zeus down.

"Sure you do. You think you know better, don't you? Well, don't you? Say it. Own it."

"I-I-I just think you are a little misguided. That's all."

"And your 'god' is better, like you are better than me."

"It's not like that. C'mon, with all your advancement you have to know those are myths."

"Myths," Zeus repeated nearly beet red in the face. "They are not myths. High Priestess Cassandra tends them herself."

"Oh man, they are statues and you know it. We got rid of idols long ago. If you want to learn about our God, I would be happy to show you…"

Without warning, the contractor found himself knocked on his back down on the ground. He looked up in surprise.

"What'd you do that for?"

"Blaspheme again, and I'll kill you, you sonofabitch."

The fight was on. More and more people gathered. The shoving and the cursing ratcheted up. By the time the MPs arrived to break it up, half the people present on the makeshift court were brawling.

* * *

**Roslin's Office on Arula**

"I do not NEED this!" Roslin said firmly to the MP who brought the report. "Throw him in the brig. I want him brought up on charges and I want the Atlantis man too."

"I'm sorry, Madame President," the MP stated at attention. "He is in the Atlantis hospital. We only know that his condition is grave. When our people learned he had disrespected the gods, they could not restrain themselves."

"I want it made clear that we do not reduce ourselves to brawling in street fights to make ourselves feel better. It doesn't matter what they say. Laugh it off. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I want those crowds dispersed." Turning to her aide, she continued, "I want the Newsies to make it plain that we don't care what they think. We already know what they think. So what? As long as they don't try to stop us from practicing our religion, it's not a problem. Tell them to focus on the progress we've made at restoring another section of the city."

"Yes, ma'am," replied her aide. "But, ma'am, they've already reported the incident. People are calling their representatives."

"Get me each one on the line and I'll tell them. It's a stupid little fight over nothing. Don't make it into something."

* * *

**On the Daedalus orbiting Earth**

"What did they decide," asked Colonel Caldwell?

"They can't decide. That's what they decided." Richard Woolsey shook his head and frowned. He was on site to observe the proceedings. "This ground penetrating radar came up inconclusive. Something is down there, but no one knows what."

"Ok, I'm authorizing the team to break out the other assets. If there's something down there, I want to know too."

"Sir," Major Gant interrupted. "We could ask Hermiod to assist."

"Do it," Caldwell commanded. "Is Teal'c in position?"

"Yes, sir," answered the communications officer.

"Teal'c, this is Caldwell."

"Yes, Colonel Caldwell."

"Do you have those items ready to assist?"

"Indeed."

"It looks like we are going to need them."

"Understood, I'm taking Rak'nor to Dr. Lee now."

"Thanks, Caldwell out." Caldwell punched another button. "Caldwell, have the area cleared for Teal'c to land." He listened a moment. Satisfied he switched off.

"Teal'c just arrived," reported Woolsey. "This could take a while."

"Well, if they can't seem to figure it out, pull the plug and move on to Delphi. Caldwell out."

* * *

**K'tau: Freyr's Hall of Wisdom**

"So General O'Neill is asking for a face to face meeting this time," Daniel said respectfully. "He says it has to do with the fate of the Asgaard."

"I see Dr. Jackson," Freyr responded coolly. "We can assume that he has new information about the nature of the Colonials?"

"Um, not exactly, no. Actually, we want to talk about the Cylons."

"What about them?"

"We have new information that could affect the survival of the Asgaard."

"Just forward to us the files and we shall review them. General O'Neill doesn't need to come directly. If we have questions, we can ask him later."

"I'm sorry, but is Thor around?"

"No, he is not."

"Can you let him know we would like to speak with him?"

"Commander Thor is away on a mission for the Asgaard."

"Did he go to the Colonial's galaxy, by any chance?"

"We are not at liberty to …"

"Oh c'mon you guys lose nothing by telling us."

"Yes, he did."

"Oh."

"If that is all, Dr. Jackson?"

"No, please ask the High Council to receive General O'Neill in person. This is critical."

"I shall pass on that request."

The light went out. Daniel found himself back in Freyr's Temple standing at the altar.

"What did he say," Vala asked?

"They took a message and will call back, maybe."

"That's not good…right?"

"Right."

Daniel turned to stomp out of the Temple. Vala snatched something off the altar and ran after him, bumping into his back as he stopped short. All he did was hold his hand back over his shoulder for the item. Vala looked at it, the item, shrugged and gave it to him. Daniel spun in place, glowering at her. She winced. He glowered more. Out from her brassiere came another small object which she handed to him

"All of it."

"That is all of it."

"We are not going anywhere until you put it back."

"It's not as if they are worth that much, sort of a souvenir if you will."

Daniel grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward the altar.

"Ok, let's go back to the Hall of Wisdom and YOU can explain to Freyr why you need a souvenir."

"I-I don't NEED a souvenir. No one needs a souvenir. But," Vala groped for a reason. "I would like to say that if we are going to all these primitive worlds shouldn't I be allowed to engage in some sort of trade?"

"No."

"No, just like that?"

"Yes." Daniel pointed at the place where several items were obviously missing from the decorations. She handed over each one as he counted. "If you don't stop, you are not going on any more missions. Clear?"

"Oh all right. But we should we agree beforehand about what I can and can not trade?"

"Oh, one of these days," Daniel grumbled, hauling her off.

* * *

**Crete: Palace of Knossos**

"Mr. Woolsey," began the IOA Greek representative. "They must not disturb anything. We said they could look. It didn't mean 'dig.' I must protest."

"Mr. Papadopoulos," Woolsey replied softly. "I assure you that this is of critical necessity. These people possess technology even our friends don't have. It's not my first choice, but give it more time."

"It's forty feet down! You can't move forty feet of earth without destroying priceless artifacts!"

"You can to retrieve the shield of Artemis," said Cassandra grimly.

"Do you know for a certainty that's what it is?"

"No. We do not. That's why we must dig it out."

"Then I'm sorry. The Greek government will not sanction careless artifact scavenging. You'll have to figure out another way to satisfy yourselves."

"But," Woolsey tried his hand at persuasion.

"As you Americans say, 'case closed.' And I shall register a formal protest with your government." The Greek representative waved over the Greek army troops to move the delegation out.

* * *

**Atlantis: Jack's Office**

"What's up," Jack asked softly of his aide?

"Oh, the altercation is creating more problems, sir."

"Ack!"

"Yes, well, it's a minor incident. However, their press has got their teeth into it. President Roslin is demanding that our person be held accountable."

"Accountable as in…"

"Incitement to riot, defaming the gods, aggravated assault…"

"Back up," Jack commented dryly. "Defaming?" Jack winced.

"Yes, the whole thing started over a comment about them worshipping idols."

"Oy."

"At the moment, our civilian contractor is in the Infirmary and can't be moved. They severely beat him. We have half a dozen more with injuries as well."

"It's a man's opinion."

"He should have held to the sensitivity training. General, you need to speak to the Pentagon. They should have a word with the defense contractors who sent people."

"Right."

"And we need replacement personnel. We don't have that many on site liaisons with them. Sixteen people out of commission are a big dent. While they have their own work brigades, our people are making sure the supplies move smoothly. We have specialists to work the alien equipment to interface with our own. I've had to move people from the Alpha Site to pick up the slack which means more delays later."

"Okay, next time we dial up."

"Five minutes, sir."

"Have something written up to plain text message for distribution over there."

"Already done, sir."

Grinning, Jack said to her, "You're good." She smiled back at him.

"Anyway, the Congressional hearings focused on the use of contractors this week. Specifically, they are calling for less involvement of non-military personnel in front line arenas. However, the IOA wants more involvement from other nations."

"I'll ask them to try to send some more military in the meantime…from other nations."

Once the connection to the SGC was established, O'Neill reported in. The news was not encouraging from the Colonial delegation.

"Understood," O'Neill answered grimily. "Send Daniel when he gets back from K'tau. He and Woolsey will have to handle it. O'Neill out."

"Do you want me to prepare an update for President Roslin, sir?"

"Give it another day," O'Neill said and walked off.

* * *

**Greece: Oracle of Apollo at Delphi**

"How much longer is she going to be down there," Woolsey huffed impatiently?

"As long as it takes," Daniel answered. He had been down this road before on his many travels. "According to modern scientists, the Oracle is on a fault line which lets ethylene gas up into the underground chamber. Pythia the Oracle would hallucinate from it and give her pronouncements. Unfortunately, there have been so many earthquakes over the centuries that the gas is nearly non-existent and the chamber has ventilation to keep the tourists from getting sick."

"Oh great, so they won't have their vision anytime soon."

"Well maybe," Daniel shrugged. "They were warned. So their Oracle Dodona Selloi brought chamalla, a drug that enables hallucinations."

"Great, drug induced national policy."

"I wouldn't worry about it." Daniel pushed his glasses back up his nose and stared at the sky.

"What does that mean?"

Daniel gave him a meaningful look.

"Oh." Woolsey looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Is that wise?"

Daniel shrugged, cynically.

* * *

**Adama's Office on the Galactica:**

"We are all aware of the situation, Helo. Let us handle it. There's enough commotion without you making it worse."

"She's my _WIFE_, sir."

"You think I don't know that?" Adama said it so softly it was menacing. "Now you get your sorry ass back down to the planet and restore order. You are authorized to use force only on our own people. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Helo marched out unhappy and determined.

Once alone, Adama decided to make an appointment with O'Neill through back channels. Lt. Gaeta went to meet Lt. Colonel Mitchell at the landing zone. The message received, O'Neill granted the interview for the following day for lunch in Atlantis. The only problem would be in slipping away and returning without the Newsies finding out.

Well they found out. The hue and cry opposing the great Fleet Commander going hat in hand to the Earthmen shook the Quorum of Twelve. The insult by the Earthmen happened on Colonial territory. Or _was_ it Colonial territory and not really a colony of Earth? The high handedness of the perceived _summons_ drove the rest of the fleet into frenzy. Allegations that Cassandra and Selloi had not found Earth made the rumor mill. Speculation that they were never coming back also caused unrest.

On the planet, each Earth soldier and contractor felt the menace. While the MPs tried to keep the situation under control, inevitably someone acted out of malice. A trio of civilian engineers overseeing the supplies and interfaces with the electrical grid came face to face with a mob of Colonials out for blood.

"Rodney, we can not wait any longer. You must fly this thing," Teyla urged McKay.

"Right, well buckle up. I hope I can do it without killing us." He sat down at the controls and cloaked the ship. Swiftly it moved to the power station and de-cloaked above the mob surrounding the hapless engineers. The crowd was sufficiently startled that it backed off. McKay landed the Jumper and told the men to walk slowly to the rear hatch to depart. They barely made it out with their lives.

"McKay, there are four more at the sewer treatment plant. We have to go get them," urged one of the engineers.

"What am I now, a taxi?"

"You are rescuing our people, McKay, now go!" The senior engineer sat down next to McKay. "Or I will. I've got the gene. Your choice."

"Fine use of my talents, bus driver for some mechanics who can't keep their mouths shut. I was on my way to get a good look at the Jump Drive of the Galactica; but no, next stop Emerald City. And I'm not even in the union," he muttered.

"Shut up, McKay," answered the Senior Engineer. "There, there they are."

He pointed to the exterior grounds where a mob had collected. Four men stood behind the chain link fence holding the mob from the supplies. They didn't understand that the mob wanted them not the supplies, until their headsets activated. Without hesitation, they made a run for it as the mob broke down the fence. A heavy wrench hit the hull of the Jumper before it took off.

Teyla radioed the Atlantis base at the landing field to alert them to the riot, advising them to shut the gates and post guards. She advised Colonel Mitchell send the civilians to the Stargate.

Turning to Ronon, Mitchell told him to roust the Athosians and any other civilians to get them out. He offered to return to boost Mitchell's force.

"Negative, you'll have your hands full just getting them to the Alpha site. They might have to wait there a while before we can open the Atlantis gate for them. It could be in use for a while. You have to oversee them. Distribute what supplies and shelter we have there."

"Understood, just call me if you need me."

He ran quickly to get their people out. Meanwhile, Mitchell alerted Major Lorne to be on the lookout for angry mobs. Then he directed the defense of the landing zone and path to the Stargate. He also managed to put in a call to Lt. Gaeta.

* * *

**Atlantis: O'Neill's Office**

"How did this get so out of hand," he demanded to know?

"Sir, Admiral Adama is requesting a postponement of your meeting. It's politically unfeasible. So he's sent Lt. Gaeta."

"Send him in," O'Neill said evenly.

"Sir," Lt. Gaeta said respectfully waiting to be addressed.

"At ease, son," O'Neill said in a fatherly tone. "What do you have for me?"

"Sir, Admiral Adama sends his apologies. He wants to assure you that he is handling matters. However," Felix paused fearing the silver-haired general's reaction. O'Neill had become the boogey man among the Colonials.

"Go on," O'Neill said softly.

"Sir, with respect, I'm just the messenger."

"I know."

"Sir, the Admiral has a few questions and a request. First, he would like an update on the delegation on Earth. He would also like to ask if you can arrange for him to speak with them. And, sir, he would like to speak to you personally about a specific Cylon removed from the fleet. And…" Felix hesitated, fear escalating at the non-reaction.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, he was wondering if it would be possible, when things calm down later today or tomorrow if you would consider coming to meet with him on the Galactica." Lt. Gaeta fixed his eyes forward standing stiffly military style. He offered with a stiffly outstretched hand a paper envelope for O'Neill.

"The invitation," O'Neill asked?

"Yes, sir."

"Tell the Admiral I am happy to come and discuss these matters with him. Leave that with my aide on your way out. You two can arrange it for three hours from now. But, tell the Admiral that we shall return someone to report to him in person."

The look of relief on Gaeta's face said it all. "Yes, sir, thank you sir."

"Dismissed."

* * *

**Oracle of Apollo at Delphi**

"What the heck is going on in there," Woolsey asked anxiously hearing loud wailings?

"Looks like we are about to find out," Daniel commented.

Up from the lower chamber, Chief Tyrol scrambled up the stairs with fear in his eyes. After him came Apollo. After him came one of the Colonial scientists. Dr. Weir and the Greek IOA member came up more slowly, assisted by a Greek soldier. They didn't look well. Finally, Cassandra and Selloi came out escorted by more Greek soldiers. Clearly, they were not in their right minds.

Woolsey's headset activated. He listened, as did Daniel. Both exchanged worried looks. Woolsey went up to Weir, who was definitely ill. Gently he held her hand to apprise her of the situation. She nodded, understanding. Woolsey then addressed Apollo as the ranking dignitary who was still in his senses.

"Sir, a word," Woolsey said softly leading Apollo away from the group.

A Greek nurse and medic went to tend the Priestess and the Oracle. A Greek soldier offered refreshments. Apollo took a cup and drank that and two more, shaking his head. Woolsey waited until Apollo had refreshed himself in the men's room and returned. They sat on a bench under an olive tree.

Major Adama, your father is requesting that one of the delegation return to report to him in person. The fleet is unsettled and wants immediate reassurances. General O'Neill is going in person to offer those assurances. Your father wants to show that everyone here is well and that the mission is proceeding as agreed. But we need to do this now."

Lee Adama nodded. "I'll send the Chief. If I go, it's not such a good political statement." Apollo called over Tyrol. "Chief, you are to return immediately to Galactica. Report to the Admiral what you have seen and heard. Reassure him that we are well and treated with kindness and respect."

"Yes, sir," Tyrol said obediently if not a little disappointed.

Daniel activated Tyrol's transporter locator. A bright light deposited him on board the Daedalus. Immediately, he was transported down to the SGC's gate room. The Puddle Jumper and Sheppard were waiting. Tyrol barely had time to glance around before taking a seat inside. The passenger compartment sealed, Sheppard sent the craft into the event horizon.

Thirty minutes later, they exited in the Atlantis Gate room. General O'Neill was ready with his aide. He entered moving swiftly to the pilot's seat. Tyrol's eyes widened. Sheppard took second seat, while O'Neill's aide sat next to Tyrol and the three SF's attending the party. Deftly, O'Neill dialed the Arula gate and backed out of the control room.

Instantly they exited out of the Arula side. O'Neill expertly guided them into orbit to rendezvous with the Galactica. Receiving landing instructions and escorted by a Raptor and a Viper, O'Neill landed the Jumper with the barest thump announcing arrival.

"Well done, sir."

"God I miss going off world."

O'Neill released the rear hatch, securing the systems, and then exited after everyone else. Admiral Adama and President Roslin were there to greet O'Neill with a full crew of Newsies to record everything. O'Neill had done that dance before and had expected it. O'Neill requested permission to come aboard. Adama granted it, readily extending his hand to shake. Both posed in the handshake for the cameras, smiling. O'Neill did the same with Roslin.

"General O'Neill, thank you for coming so promptly to my request for a meeting."

"Sure thing, Admiral," O'Neill said in his informal style while observing the assembly with a practiced eye. "I brought you a surprise." He indicated Chief Tyrol. "I believe he has a report to make on his journey."

As agreed in advance, Adama directed attention to the Chief by asking him to report. The Chief at stiff attention pronounced the expedition a qualified success. While it was still on going, the major question about the constellations had been answered absolutely.

"Sir, Priestess Cassandra and Oracle Selloi had strong visions at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. The stars agreed with the constellations seen in the Tomb of Athena on Kobol. These sightings were taken both from the planet's surface and from space above the planet, sir. No doubt about it," Chief said to him. "We made our own recordings," he said handing Adama the film.

A cheer went up from the onlookers. The cameras recorded a smug image of O'Neill with that 'I told you so' expression. Adama kept a stern visage.

"Chief, has anyone tried to coerce you or sway your opinion?"

"No, sir! Everyone treated us with great respect, not interfering with what we were doing and making sure we were satisfied before moving on to each phase. Our delegation will meet with the rest of the Earth Committee members tomorrow. After that they will make a tour of the Capital and come home."

"Well Chief," began Roslin, "that is good news. General O'Neill, you have been patient and kind through this whole effort. We owe you a debt of gratitude."

"Oh well, you know, ma'am." Jack did his humble look. "I suppose you do."


	6. Chapter 6: Disclosure

**Chapter 6:** Disclosure

**

* * *

Carter's Lab in Atlantis **

"Someone has to tell General O'Neill. The Asgard must realize this, too," Dr. Beckett advised. "We've done them a favor, now they just have to listen."

"Good work," Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter responded. "Do you think if you could get hold of an actual Cylon you could confirm this?"

"Well, if that's possible, maybe. But we jettisoned several as I understand it when we met the Colonials."

"They may have dead ones in storage."

"No, no, I would need a live one."

"Okay, Dr. Beckett, I'll tell the General of our findings. "Please continue your research into the Colonial's DNA comparisons to the Ancient's."

"We've made more headway since you got us the additional personnel, Colonel. Thank you. Nothing to report just yet, but I may have something by the end of the week."

"If you need anything else, let Dr. Lee know. He's going back to the SGC today." Sam nodded and left, brooding over the discovery. The implications were devastating. In her office, she tried to compose a white paper which would be brief enough for O'Neill to get the gist without overwhelming him. After ten years, Sam figured she knew how to do that. It took an hour. Then she sent the plain text copy to his mailbox.

**

* * *

Galactica: In orbit of Arula **

As the press finished taking pictures of the leaders, individual journalists shouted questions to them. Adama shrugged and grinned slightly at O'Neill who understood it was a necessary evil to answer a few.

"General O'Neill, did you come today to deliver Earth's response to the recent unprovoked attack by Earth's military on our workers?"

"No, I'm here on an unofficial visit. I wanted to deliver personally Chief Tyrol as a goodwill gesture. Of course, I'll pay a courtesy visit to President Roslin and Admiral Adama, then head on back to Atlantis."

"Didn't Admiral Adama demand that you come?"

"No, this is just a courtesy visit. There's no official agenda." Jack frowned, "I'd love to stay and chat, but I can only stay for a little while. No more questions, please."

With that the group turned to go for a private meeting in one of Galactica's smaller conference rooms near the Flight Deck.

"Look Bill, this has to be a personal meeting," Jack said as they walked through the grim drab corridors. "I didn't prepare anything official."

"I know," the Admiral agreed. "Here," he indicated the room.

In front of the door, President Roslin offered her hand to O'Neill saying graciously, "Well General, since this is an unofficial visit, I want to thank you for bringing Chief Tyrol back. I am interested in what he has to report. So I'll leave you two gentlemen to your discussion."

Both men nodded, understanding she had effectively stated that she was permitting them a private meeting, and let her go.

"Bill, I would like to limit the participants since I can only stay an hour or so," Jack said softly.

Adama waved off his aide who led Jack's aide out as well. Then they entered the small conference room, while their entourages waited outside. Inside were two small round tables with eight chairs and a white board on the wall. Pilots and mechanics used the room for meetings on a regular basis. Finally, the principals got down to business. The two commanders settled in at the table. The two months were nearly up since they had met. Touching base now was a good idea even if there weren't real issues on the table.

An orderly came in to pour refreshments. Adama offered O'Neill a glass of something alcoholic. He refused, being on duty. The orderly poured them each a glass of fruit juice, quietly leaving. While Adama sipped, O'Neill studied him under long lashes and a deadpan expression.

"Jack, I don't know where to begin." Adama took off his glasses to clean them. Carefully and slowly, he polished the lenses.

"The beginning?"

"Right." Adama fingered the glass of fruit juice before downing the contents. "That is really good stuff. What is it?"

"Orange juice." Jack finished his and gently set the glass on the desk. "But you didn't ask me here to taste test."

"First, let me thank you for bringing back the Chief. That was a great call." Adama watched Jack stare back at him, waiting. "I think the doubters will have to admit that we have found Earth." Jack's stoic face gave away nothing. "Jack, I want to give you a piece of information unofficially. The relationship between the Cylons and us is more complicated than you may perceive. And we would probably like to have more details about the Cylons that were removed from us."

"Go on."

"We really need to know what's happened to them."

"Because?"

Adama sighed, leaning in, "A lot of people are afraid of them and want to know that these Cylons are not being used against us. I need something to calm their fears. Otherwise, they think Earth is involved in some sort of conspiracy. There are those who are trying to exploit this situation. As you saw, the situation is volatile." Jack inclined his head in understanding. Adama continued, "I just have to quiet their fears." Adama looked him in the eye. "Jack, if you want this conversation to be off the record, that's fine. But, I'm not playing games."

"Off the record, fine, they haven't been disposed of. Unfortunately, I don't have any access or control over their fate. On the other hand, I can guarantee you that they are not being used against you."

"I trust your word that the people who are handling them do not intend to use them to harm us. I'm not sure they appreciate the harm that may come unintentionally by not controlling these Cylons' communication with Cylon Central Command if one of their base ships is around. You could lead them straight to us."

"Bill, they're not in this galaxy anymore."

"Oh," Adama said gravely. "You could lead them straight to Earth then."

"They're not in that galaxy, either."

Adama startled. The idea of these people going to many galaxies had not occurred to him. The tremendous advancement that ability represented chilled him. It made the quiet soft spoken man sitting across from him that much more fearsome. Carefully, Adama began again.

"Jack, I need to know something about one specifically. She is the wife of one of our men and she's an officer in our fleet. My officer wants his wife back." Adama spoke very softly, "Can he get confirmation from her that no harm has come to her?"

"I don't think I can arrange that."

"As my brief explained, the Cylons are trying to create a hybrid Human-Cylon race. We don't know why. But they are. Apparently, they succeeded with the birth of Hera Agathon." Adama took off his glasses slowly and carefully polishing the lenses. O'Neill didn't take the opening. So Adama continued, "Hera needs her mother."

"Is the child a Cylon?"

"We don't know."

"You have to explain to me why you keep a potential enemy like this amongst you. And, what makes you so interested about the welfare of any mechanical genocidal robots?" Jack stared Adama in the eye. "That just doesn't track."

"This particular Cylon has used free will to consciously choose to set her own course."

"I thought your report said that Cylon Central controls the programming of these 'skin jobs'. And that they do nothing but deceive anyone who will listen. What makes you think this one isn't spinning a tale or just emulating complex human behaviors?"

"Normally, I would agree with you. But in this instance, Sharon Agathon has proven herself time and again even going up against her own kind."

"Bill, it's a robot. They don't have a kind." Jack became animated. "Bill, we've dealt with robots that look like humans, mimic emotions, speech, the works. They're still machines."

"Even so, can you do it, let my guy get in touch with his wife?"

"Officially as you know they do not exist. So, not right now, no." Jack frowned. On top of everything else, he didn't want the Colonials to know about the Asgard at this time. Besides, they still had to call back and they were notoriously unreliable. "What else do you want to talk about?"

Adama was a little taken aback, but covered his surprise quickly. Shifting in his seat, he tried another subject, weighing on his mind. He had been arguing with Roslin that O'Neill was a man of his word. So he needed something done. Two months ago, O'Neill had agreed that the Colonials could have liaison office on Atlantis. It was time to remind the General of his promise. After all the whole relationship was done on a handshake between the two of them.

"The religious issue, if we had an ambassador in Atlantis, the whole situation could have been handled more easily and quicker."

"Have President Roslin set something up with Dr. Weir." Jack hesitated, but went on. "Bill, I don't want to offend you, but there is some information you should know."

"How concrete, scientific?"

"Rock hard."

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"That's up to you."

"No, seriously, you must have a reason for telling me."

"Better to be prepared, have a plan by the time the rest find out."

"Trying to convert me, Jack?"

"No. Believe what you want. It's just a heads up."

"Okay, but that's the other thing I want to say. You have to control your people on this matter."

"The military personnel can be given an order; but not the contractors. Freedom of speech is guaranteed."

"Could you get us a broadcast piece on Earth peoples and customs? It might help."

"Sure, Bill, sure," Jack smiled. "Curious?"

Adama snorted, of course he was.

"So go with the next group," Jack offered sincerely.

"Thanks, maybe after Laura goes."

"Bill, any progress with her?"

"You saw her."

"Oy, so, any progress with her?"

Both commanders' eyes met. Laura was a tough cookie who would not easily be swayed in her opinions. Then the meeting turned to setting up joint exercises with the ships. They settled on a small test run inside the system with Puddle Jumpers, a few Vipers and Raptors. Larger scale exercises would happen when the Daedalus returned.

"Bill, about the prison population?"

"That's a tough one." Adama rubbed the bridge of his nose to relieve the stress. "There's the prison ship for now. There aren't so many prisoners anymore. After we get the rest of the population settled, we can do something about them."

"There's an island in the middle of the ocean. It can be supplied."

"We had the same thought. But they can't go dirtside before law abiding citizens."

"The problem is that we'll need all your ships if the Wraith attack. The prisoners could cause a distraction in battle."

"You have a point. Okay," Adama approved of Jack's military assessment. It was a good excuse to free up a ship. "When can we expect to start retrofitting the ships?"

"We have ordered supplies. Bureaucracy, you know."

Jack wasn't going any farther before the Colonials agreed his folks were from Earth. They weren't touching the ships. Food and humanitarian aid, sure, but only a few scientists and engineers had actually seen inside of a few ships to start a requisition list of parts.

"A little after the delegation returns, send your teams over."

"You don't still think we'd…"

"No, it's just politics. They have to give a broadcast and all."

"Fine. One more thing," Jack hesitated. Adama waited intently. "Colonel Carter wants to know if you can spare some Cylon spare parts."

"Why?"

"It's important, Bill."

"I'll get you a list."

"She wants to come and see what you have."

"Sure." Adama noticed the hint of pride his counterpart had in that officer. He had noticed before. "You think highly of her, like Dr. Jackson."

"Oh well, you know." But the light in his eyes gave him away.

**

* * *

Arula: President Roslin's Office **

"Chief, is there any possibility it is not Earth?" Sarah Parker, a Quorum of Twelve representative asked in her usual confrontational style.

"No, ma'am, the stars are where they should be exactly. And if I may say…"

"Go on…"

"They don't act as if they are anything but certain we will realize it sooner or later. We went to their museums and ancient sites. Our stories and their stories about the Gods match with our scrolls. Cassandra and Selloi had profound visions supporting this truth. But more importantly, even if you want to believe otherwise, ma'am, our readings indicate there are more than 6.5 billion human beings on that planet. We are not the last of humanity. And they say that even more planets are filled with other humans from Earth. Ma'am, they are willing to help us. What more could we want?"

"Besides being allowed to settle there?" Sarah Parker would not be mollified.

"That's above my pay grade, ma'am. I'm just saying…"

"Thank you, Chief. Your testimony is compelling," Roslin agreed. "You will have to say all this again in the Temple. I've ordered press coverage of your statements to the Priests. Go with my aide to get ready." She waited until he had gone. "Although I want to hear from the delegation, I'm prepared to accept that they are from Earth. We've followed the signs to this point. Even if they aren't, they have to be descendants of the Thirteenth Colony. After all, we are in another galaxy. So somebody moved out this way. We'll confirm this to the press."

"I agree," said Parker. "But that still leaves us with a problem."

"It still leaves us stuck out here, cut off," Roslin re-stated emphatically. "So I want it understood that we are at their mercy for at least two years while we make repairs. In that time, I expect you to control our people. I don't want another outburst like this one. Get up in front of the media and show solidarity today. We'll find out where Earth is and how to get there. I swear on the Scroll of Pythia."

**

* * *

Arula: New Married Officer's Housing **

Anders leaned against the doorway to the bedroom he and Kara would share in their first real house. It was made of brick with plaster walls, a fireplace, a working kitchen, a few pieces of furniture, and windows. The windows meant the most. The windows meant they could look outside…at something other than themselves.

At this moment, Kara wasn't looking at the window. She was thrashing about trying to position the bed, but couldn't find just the right spot. Finally, she slammed it against the wall next to the window. In another motion, she slapped on some sheets provided by the Earthmen that were supposed to fit the bed. She threw two pillows at the bed, bouncing them off the wall. They fell to the floor. She picked one up and threw it hard. She looked as if she were trying to kill the bed.

"Have you won the Battle of the Bed," Anders grinned slightly? Kara glared back at him.

"You could help. These frakking sheets don't fit."

"Yes, they do. Here," he bent over to show her the elastic corners. "This is the bottom sheet. It goes over this, the mattress pad."

He handed her a corner for the other side. The sheet slipped over the corners forming a tight fit. In silence they made the bed.

"Now why didn't we ever think of putting elastic on the corners of the sheets," he grinned rakishly at Kara. "Wanna see if they will hold?"

Anders raised his eyebrows up and down to tease her. She wasn't having it. Instead she tried to brush past him, to leave. He caught her arm. She looked back at him with regret. Instead, he flopped them both down on the newly made double bed. Staring up in silence at the crack in the ceiling, neither of them moved.

"It's too good to be true," Kara stated simply after tracing the ceiling crack several times.

"What?" Anders came out of his reverie. "Oh, all this?"

"Yeah, all this!"

"And if it is?"

"We don't have a plan."

"Kara, did you ever think what it would be like if we did find Earth?"

"Yes, no, I mean I hoped, but I was too busy trying to survive."

"That's just it. No one has had time to envision really what we would do at the end of our quest. The war is over Kara. Now we have to build the peace."

"That's just it. I'm not ready for the 'war' to be over. We don't know the Cylons won't find us. We already know there's something as bad, maybe worse right here. We don't know that our saviors aren't going to turn on us. Or maybe they'll hang us out to dry. We have to rely on ourselves."

"You don't know what you are going to do when there isn't any more fighting." Anders sat up, propping himself against the wall. "You're not ready to give up your license to blow things up, killing and fighting. You're not ready to have a life."

"That's a lot of garbage. Of course I am," she snarled. "Oh, I get it. This is about you getting laid, regularly, and eating the charity these folks are willing to hand out. Well, you go grovel to them. Count me out."

"That's mean, Kara."

Kara sat there on the edge of the bed with her back to him. She chewed at her bottom lip in frustration looking out the window, seeing and not seeing through it. She shrugged.

"Aren't you interested in having a family, having friends, having some regularity in your life for a while?"

"Sure I am, when the time is right."

"It will never be right for you. There'll always be a boogey man out there. You have to live…"

"Well, I don't have to live it listening to you lecture me." She swiveled around looking at him. "Think about all this, really think. It doesn't add up. If these folks are so advanced that they can tow the whole fleet here, after finding us when they shouldn't, then _WHY _do they need us and our ships to help defend against anybody? Huh, answer that."

"I don't know. But if it buys us some time to fix and repair our ships, gives us a breather, then fine. They want to know about our technology. Well guess what? It works both ways. They can't keep it all from us. Plenty is going to leak or we'll figure it out."

"Maybe, but there's more and you know it."

"Yes, there's more. There's always more. It never stops with you. Sometimes a tree is just a tree. But," he leaned over to wag his finger at her. "YOU, my wife, are not to go after the Cam Mitchells in this deal."

"I was under orders," Kara spat back.

"Find another way," he said with deadly soft tones. "Or aren't you smart enough?"

Kara's jaw dropped. No one spoke to her that way except Tigh and The Old Man.

**

* * *

Atlantis: Carter's Lab **

A few days after O'Neill returned to Atlantis and Carter had her shopping trip for Cylon spare parts, he got a call on his headset. Loping through the corridors, he grinned to himself. Of course she found something. She always did. And she always got so excited.

"Sir, we have to talk," Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter listened into her headset. "But sir, you should come and see this." She disconnected her link. Turning her head to Dr. Beckett she frowned. "He's coming. But he's really not going to like this."

"Aye, that he won't." Dr. Beckett shrugged and turned back to the report he was finishing. "Any word from the Asgaard?"

"No, and it's becoming a problem."

"When isn't it?" Dr. Beckett continued to type. "Why can't Hermiod do something?" Beckett referred to the Asgaard crewmember on the Daedalus. After the defeat of the Replicators, the Asgaard made good on their promises to help Earth. Now, they took an active part in Earth's space explorations. In particular, they sent one of their own to operate and manage Asgaard shields, transporters, and other technical issues too advanced for their human allies.

"We've tried to contact the Daedalus, but it's not in range. It must be between the galaxies at this point." Carter straightened up as O'Neill sauntered in. "Sir, that was quick."

"Yes, well I was in the neighborhood. Whatcha got?"

"Sir, you asked us to find out why the Asgaard could be so interested in the Cylons. And you wanted to know why a Cylon could give birth. We went over to the Galactica and retrieved tissue and blood samples from Cylon parts they have in deep freeze. And we took a sample of Hera Agathon's blood and tissues. The results are remarkable…"

"Carter, ack!"

"Yes, sir," she sighed. "Sir, Cylon 'skin jobs,' the ones that look like us at least… are genetically human beings with some modifications."

"What?"

"That's right, sir. Most of their bodies are the same except how the brain is wired. You see, they couldn't generate human tissue without human DNA. The building blocks must be the same alphabet code." Jack looked blank.

"You've seen it… The possible letters are A, C, G, and T, representing the four nucleotide subunits of a DNA strand - adenine, cytosine, guanine, thymine. Typically the sequences are printed abutting one another without gaps, as in the sequence AAAGTCTGAC, going from 5' to 3' from left to right. A succession of any number of nucleotides greater than four is liable to be called a sequence. For example: AGCT GAAC TAAGT are sequences. In some special cases, letters besides A, T, C, and G are present in a sequence. These letters represent ambiguity."

"And so therefore, what?" Jack lost his patience. "Cut to it Colonel."

Carter took a deep breath. "Sir, like us, Cylons are bio-chemical machines. Modify the human DNA with an interface between the human brain and Cylon software and an interface to Cylon Central and you get a Cylon. We know that computers can be biological. Already we know how to use molecules to assemble machines. The Cylons use biochemistry to construct their machines inside a human brain. They use bio-chemistry to implant the software which is also bio-chemical. We send chemical impulses between our nerves. So do they. Only they do it because the program is sending the signals using a human brain as the matrix. It's a human body functioning nearly normally with overwritten protocols as to how to do things."

"What kind of things?"

"How to interact with information and programming, as we do in a fashion only theirs is an artificial construction. However," Carter paused, waiting for Jack to catch up. "Sir, not only are they machines inside human bodies, but these machines can learn. And there's a downside," Carter frowned.

"Ya think?"

"Sir, when you change the chemistry of the brain to fit the Cylon programming you get unintended consequences. Very few genes in the body do only one thing in the body. They usually control several, which is why Cylon blood is slightly different or why they have other differences in intelligence or strength. Sir, some of their brain activity stimulates a phosphorescent effect in the tissues. We aren't sure what the connection is, but it's there."

"General," Dr. Beckett broke in. "What we are trying to tell you is that the Cylons grew human bodies, cloned them, and inserted their bio-chemical computers to control the bodies. As the bodies use the software, they change. Some of the changes are planned. Some aren't. It may be why they couldn't have children by mating amongst themselves."

"So what about the kid? Is she a Cylon?"

"I'm afraid so, sir. This little girl, Hera, is a Cylon. The programming is there because the machine has to be in her brain. Somehow, the mother's programming would ensure that the machine replicated inside the fetus. She is the first non-cloned Cylon body. It's a remarkable breakthrough."

Jack was visibly upset that a child's life was on the line. "So she's a Trojan Horse, something waiting to do something later?" He was galled at the callous way aliens used children in their evil schemes. His thoughts and Carter's flew immediately to Cassandra and how close a call that had been, twice.

"Possibly, sir, except the Colonials have their own suspicions about her." Carter chewed her bottom lip. Telling Jack that a child was being used for diabolical alien purposes was not first on her list of choices.

"Sir, we know that their traitor, Dr. Gaius Baltar, had auditory and visual hallucinations concerning his relationship with a Number Six model. He fantasized about her all the time. He had sex with her and even declared he loved her."

"What?" Jack rubbed the hairs on the nape of his neck. "So this machine forced him, raped him?"

"Well, he didn't think so, but yes and sometimes she wasn't even really there, just in his head."

Dr. Beckett saw how upset the General was getting.

"That's just wrong on so many levels." Jack grimaced his distaste.

"Sir, we know from their scientific reports that Cylons can make a person like this Dr. Baltar see and hear what the Cylon interface wants him to perceive. He was one of the many humans used to de-bug the programming and the interface with Cylon Central, or at least the Six models of the Cylons. It also means this Dr. Baltar was forced to do things, tricked and manipulated to betray his people. He couldn't stop them."

"Bottom line it here, Colonel."

Carter paused, and then plunged in. "This little girl was born with the Cylon computer and software already embedded. She's already changed into a Cylon."

"It also means that if the Asgaard use this technique, there is a risk of them becoming Cylons too."

"How sure are you?"

"We at least have to tell them, sir." Carter met his eye. "They probably know most of it anyway, which is why they leaked it to us. Considering that Freyr told Daniel that Thor is on an expedition to the Colonial's galaxy, they aren't dissuaded."

"And if they capture Thor…" Jack left the words unsaid. "Da-da-da-daaaahhh. Da-da-da- daaaahhh!


	7. Chapter 7: Rumours

**Chapter 7: Rumours**

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** Thanks to Wikipedia for notes on demigods. And to help the reader, I have used the Roman names for the Greek demigod twins, Castor and Polydeuces (Pollux). After all the show calls Zeus by the Roman name of Jupiter.

**

* * *

A Bar on Arula **

"You want me to believe," Tom Zarek said with a lopsided grin. "That BOTH Jackson and O'Neill have **_DIED_** on several occasions and then got resurrected?"

"Not only that but also," the non-descript man in the rumpled clothing and five o'clock shadow said firmly. "And I quote, 'ascended to a higher plane of existence.' At least this is what the Earthers believe have happened."

"They don't mean that literally, do they?"

"Yes sir, literally."

"I didn't think they were that superstitious. Are they?"

"No sir, they are not superstitious. They mean it literally," he answered with deadpan seriousness. "Would you like to talk to one of my sources and decided for yourself?"

"Sure." Zarek raised his glass of beer for another swallow. He was surreptiously meeting with his spymaster. Zarek kept his finger on the pulse of the Colonials and…their underworld.

The rumpled man made a small gesture beckoning another larger man over to the bar. A burly blue collar type approached, standing uncomfortably in front of Zarek. He shifted nervously from foot to foot avoiding eye contact. Obviously he was intimidated by being in Zarek's presence. The man had a scar over one eyebrow and looked the worse for wear, Zarek noticed without seeming to give him the once over.

"This is Jake," announced the rumpled man. "He is the foreman who works with the Galactica crowd on the water treatment plant. He's overheard some mighty interesting conversations from the Atlantis satellite office over there.

"So what do you hear, Jake, my man?"

"Well you see sir; I work the air ducting and pipes we are restoring. So I'm working in the shaft when I hear them high faluting Earthers talking amongst themselves. They don't see me. No sir, but I hear them."

"Where exactly were you, Jake," Zarek said softly?

"I was by an intake shaft one level up. So this here shaft goes straight down to their headquarters room where the supervisors and the officers gather to work. None of us lowly Colonials is allowed in there, no sir."

"I see, but you are allowed to work on the ducts and pipes."

"Yes, sir, they want their creature comforts. And they want them yesterday before any of us get the same. So I was there to fix the ducts when I heared the strangest conversation. And I heared it not just once but several times over several days while I was working that building."

"Okay, do tell."

"A couple of their scientists came in to delay some of our work because they found some junk they thought was important and wanted Dr. Jackson to come see. The guy was all excited and said, 'Dr. Jackson will just die when he sees what we found.' And they all started laughing. So someone said 'what not again!' And another was laughing saying, 'how many times has Dr. Jackson died anyway?' And another said 'I heared it was at least four or five times.' And another said 'well he did ascend to a higher plane of existence twice and came back.' One of the others said he heared it was only once. Then they talked about how Jackson died of radiation poisoning and it was awful. But one of the officers, I know his voice, said that Jackson died again when… something the word was 'replicator', yeah that's the word, got him, stabbing Jackson dead so he ascended again. Then they tell the scientist go bring Jackson over because they want to watch him die and ascend when he tells Jackson what was found."

"A higher plane…of existence?" Tom restated with a dark countenance. Jake shuffled and said that's what he heard for sure. "Could any of them have known that you were there?"

"Not a chance sir," Jack replied firmly. "I enter the building from the one next to it so they didn't know I was in the building. And I hadn't started to work yet. So they didn't hear me and couldn't see me."

"But you heard this conversation again?"

"Yes, I was working in the basement of that building the next day. Sure enough some of those Earthers were in there again. They were saying that Dr. Jackson is coming to have a look see at the digging over to the west side of the building. So the officers are making sure that security is tight after what happened last week with the fighting and all."

"That's not unusual."

"No, but they are saying that their asses are in a sling if anything happens to Dr. Jackson. One of them snorted and said Jackson has more lives than a cat. But another says he's used his nine lives up. Another says that Jackson can't ascend anymore, that he was warned."

"Warned, warned by whom," Zarek asked deceptively softly.

"They didn't say. But then they said that O'Neill personally ordered extra protection for Jackson because he's worried about Jackson dying again. Then they remarked that O'Neill has died enough times himself. And they kept talking about it all matter of fact. But the really strange remark was that they didn't think O'Neill knew how many times he himself had died anymore, that O'Neill lost count or something."

"And they were laughing about that too?"

"Oh no, they were speaking about it well sort of reverently."

"But they must have known you were working on the ducts in the building at that point."

"No sir, it was late after hours and I had returned because I forgot one of my tools. So they thought all the Colonial workers were gone." Jake coughed, "um sir?"

"Yes?"

"I asked my Atlantis supervisor the next day in a round about way… when Dr. Jackson arrived… if it was true he had died and ascended. And you know what he said? He said yeah, but not to worry about it, like it was no big deal. And one of the other Atlantis guys shrugged and said Jackson had done it twice."

"I see, thank you Jake. You've done me a big service. Now keep this to yourself for now. But if you hear of anyone else who heard a story like this, you tell him," Zarek pointed at the rumpled man.

"Yes, sir that I will." He doffed his hat and sauntered off to a rougher crowd in the far corner.

"And they say we have myths for a religion?"

"I can't comment on that, sir. But at least nine different Atlantis people told our people that same story but in varying degrees of detail."

"Okay, there has to be some nugget of truth in there somewhere. What can this mean about O'Neill?"

"Well, sir, from everything we get, they speak about him in awe. I overheard one of their officers chewing out one of their civilians the day O'Neill came to the Galactica with Chief Tyrol. The Major said, and I quote, 'O'Neill has died more times than anyone can count and O'Neill wasn't going to die again on his watch.' Then another man said that 'there isn't a man or woman among them who wouldn't die to rescue O'Neill.' He meant if something went wrong and we took him prisoner.' And he was nearly screaming at the civilian for questioning it.

"Some mystical legend he's cultivated about himself?"

"No, they seem to think it's very real and… recent."

"How recent?"

"Not sure, any time within the last few years or sooner."

"Have you tried to define what they mean by 'dead'?

"Oh, yes, and they mean D.E.A.D. as in dead as a doornail…dead."

"What about the rest of them? How many have 'died' or become higher beings?

"So far, just those two."

"Okay, keep your eyes and ears open. If there's more, get me a report as soon as you can. Put some more people on this." Zarek nodded to the man before sauntering off and out of the bar.

* * *

**Arula: President Roslin's office**

"Thank you, Major," Roslin said to Lee Adama, aka Apollo as she closed the folder. "Now we have to find out how true any of this really is."

"Ma'am, all I know is what I've heard and what my people have heard. It's spreading all over the Fleet. People are obsessing on the idea that O'Neill has died and resurrected. They don't know if it's a good or bad thing. So expect some backlash. And one more thing," he hesitated. She nodded. "I know that the Vice President has his own network working on this too."

"You do," she queried holding a poker face?

"Yes ma'am, it seems he frequents the same watering hole that one of Anders' men does. On several occasions he has witnessed meetings with Zarek and a few of his usual cast of characters. So Anders sent one of his men to have a 'talk' with a construction worker who had been 'summoned' over to Zarek's table. He was persuaded after a time to reveal the nature of the discussion. From there it was easy to track down some of the others in that network and get confirmations."

"I see. How heavy handed of you Major," she said displeased.

"Well, we wanted to know what he knew, thinking he was getting involved with the new black market. Those are the same fellows we believe have been skimming Earth supplies. We caught a few today with medicines in their possession. My men are rounding up more as we speak."

"You want me to believe that you had probable cause?"

"We cleared some of this with the judge on call, but we didn't tell him of Zarek's role."

"Let's keep it that way."

"Understood," Lee said.

"What do you think, Major?"

"Me? I'm sure there's a logical explanation. No one comes back from the dead or other such nonsense."

"Don't be too sure, Major. Haven't you read about how Odysseus sailed to the underworld and back, meeting Achilles there?"

"Yes, we read that in school. We also read how Asclepius resurrected Hippolytus. Zeus struck him down for doing it for payment. So, you think it is possible?"

"I'm keeping an open mind." She paused, "and of course there is Castor and Pollux, sharing immortality on alternate days. So I wouldn't doubt that story out loud around Geminons, Major. They'll kill you."

"That they will, ma'am."

* * *

**Arula: Dig by the water plant**

"Okay, that explains things," Daniel turned to his assistants and grinned. "Secure this site. There are more stellae in there. You," he motioned to a young man, "mark the entrance. I have to contact the base."

Daniel brushed off his hands before removing his bandana. The younger translators moved in to finish filming inside the burial tomb. Jackson approached the Puddle Jumper before saying anything more. Once inside, he activated the comm link to Major Lorne before activating the Stargate. He had to be sure no one was in the way. Nothing like disintegrating a few Colonials after the recent riot Jackson smirked.

"Atlantis, this is Jackson. I've finished translating most of the entrance text. Tell Jack that it's Ancient all right." He listened. "I'll be back in an hour. Can you set up an appointment?" Daniel listened. "Rodger that, in two hours, Jackson out."

"Dr. Jackson, come quickly!" Lt. Cadman called into the cabin. "We've found another room!"

* * *

**Atlantis: The Gate Room**

General O'Neill stood waiting, tapping his watch. The new Colonial liaison group was due to arrive any minute. He tapped his watch face again and frowned.

"Let's get this shindig on the road!"

At that moment, the Stargate activated. Once the proper codes came through, the energy iris disengaged, permitting the newcomers to troop in. Colonel Saul Tigh led the motley assortment to the foot of the steps. He nodded at O'Neill waiting for him to descend.

"Colonel," O'Neill said extending his arm for a handshake. Tigh grasped it firmly. His eye met O'Neill's. They understood each other. Lifelong military men usually recognize each other.

"General. I'd like to introduce the staff. This is Lt. Dualla. She'll be the first head of station to get things set up. Then we'll want her back on the Galactica." He motioned for Dee to come greet the General. She stiffened and hesitated slightly, then composed herself and took his hand.

"Lieutenant, welcome." Jack shook hands with each one. There were three. The youngest one looked as though he wanted to flee when Jack offered his hand. But he did take it. Jack raised an eyebrow and nodded. The young man's eye's could not have been wider.

"Well, we're here, General. Where do we go?"

"Down to business, I can do that. Colonel, we have some refreshments waiting in your new digs." He saw Tigh looked confused. "Digs, offices, it's an expression. C'mon."

They followed O'Neill up the stairs where he handed them off to his aide. As O'Neill turned to go he caught the strange looks each Colonial gave him. Shrugging it off, he went back to his office for his next meeting.

**

* * *

****Atlantis: Colonial Liaison Office**

"Well he looks pretty good for a dead guy," the Ensign whispered after the door shut on the last Atlantis personnel.

"Shhhhhh," another one elbowed him.

"Knock it off!" Tigh growled. "He's not dead so I don't want to hear any more about it. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," came back the chorus.

"If any of you think you can't do the job, you can go right back to the Galactica and explain it to the Old Man… in person!"

They stood stiffly.

"No problem, Colonel," Dee said with authority. "Now, get to work. We have set up to do," she ordered the other two.

"That's more like it, Lieutenant," Tigh snarled in low tones. "I want this place operational by the end of the day."

**

* * *

Arula: Hilltop overlooking the water plant **

"I see it," Starbuck snarled. "What the frak are they doing in there?"

"Ma'am," a junior marine pointed to moving figures carrying something to a Puddle Jumper. The two focused on the figures carrying odd looking objects to the aircraft before taking off.

"Apollo, this is Starbuck, do you copy?"

"Yes, Starbuck, what did you see?"

"They found something and they are taking it with them."

"Can you get in there for a look?"

"Negative, they have doubled the guard from an hour ago and wait, more of them just arrived. I can make out Dr. Jackson. He's pretty excited."

"Okay, we'll take it from here."

"Copy that," Starbuck intoned with absolutely no intention of not participating. Turning to the team observing the situation she left orders to keep watching. She knew Apollo would contact Lt. Gaeta. He was the point man for all things Atlantean. The Old Man would send the Lt. to have a sit down with Mitchell. She wasn't going to wait.

True to form, Starbuck stood up and sauntered down the hillside toward the commotion. Her team didn't know what to do, so they followed. With a broad smile on her face, Starbuck met a foursome of guards who weren't about to let anyone armed near Dr. Jackson.

"Aw, for me fellas," Starbuck swaggered. "You shouldn't have."

"Ma'am," answered Lt. Cadman, arriving to handle the matter. Instantly, the young lieutenant recognized the blonde Colonial officer in uniform. Cadman relaxed realizing it was an official visit, not a mob attack. "This area is restricted. No weapons are allowed here."

"You have a few, I see."

"Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to talk to Dr. Jackson."

Lt. Cadman commed Daniel to ask if Starbuck could come through. He agreed. "Ma'am, leave your weapons here and I'll escort you."

"You do realize this is supposed to be our planet?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I have my orders."

"Fine, but we shall protest," Starbuck replied, loosening her gun belt.

"Knives too, ma'am," Lt. Cadman instructed. Starbuck handed over her boot knife. Lt. Cadman had a female non-com pat down the visiting officer. Starbuck rolled her eyes, and pursed her lips in annoyance. With a nod, Cadman gestured for Starbuck to come with her. "Thank you, ma'am."

"What's sauce for the goose…? I'm just saying the next time one of you comes to see us, you're getting the same treatment."

"I can't comment, ma'am. Just doing my job," the slim blonde marine proceeded to Dr. Jackson. "Dr. Jackson, Captain Thrace to see you."

"Hello, Captain," Daniel said jovially. "Good to see you again."

"Well, except for the little feel me up I got before coming over, likewise."

"Oh, sorry about that," Daniel smiled to be friendly. "Jack is feeling a little over protective with the recent fuss and all. Please, don't take it personally."

"Don't get me wrong, I love a good pawing in the morning. It's just that _**SHE'**s_ not my type." Starbuck's face smiled but her eyes didn't. Daniel coughed to cover up his embarrassment.

"What can I do for you today," Daniel became professional since he really didn't like where it was going.

"Curiosity, Dr. Jackson. What did you find?"

"Oh, this? Well, um, there are some really old things here that they wanted me to take a look at. I'm an archaeologist, you know. And, since I'm here, I thought I'd come see if I could do some translating for them."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Did you translate it, whatever it is?" Starbuck gestured widely.

"Um, I think so, yes." He hugged himself, rocking on his heels to contain himself.

"Mind if I have a look?"

"Um, it's not really ready to be seen, yet. Kinda dirty and all," he let the thought hang.

"Not a problem, I love dirt."

"Well, we don't want anything moved. You see in archaeology, it's important that we try to understand the things in the context where we find them. So we don't want to risk disturbing them until we've got them under control."

Starbuck gave him another look of disbelief. "Uh huh, sure. What's the big deal? I look. I come back." She saw Daniel's hesitation. "I can get Admiral Adama to talk to General O'Neill. We have a right to know, Dr. Jackson."

"Go ahead, sure." Daniel exchanged glances with Lt. Cadman and jerked his head to say, take her inside. "Just don't touch anything, ok? I don't want anything moved before we finish cataloguing everything."

Starbuck raised both her hands to say fine, and cocked her head in disbelief, shaking it, too. Activating her headset, she let her team know she was going inside. Then, she followed Lt. Cadman down with Daniel bringing up the rear.

"Captain, it's important in archaeology that a site not be disturbed. So take a quick look and then we're leaving," Daniel huffed along.

"I got it, Dr. Jackson."

They descended two flights of stairs. Below was a dark cavern. Field lights hung on poles for illumination. Inscriptions covered the walls and the stairs. Otherwise the room was empty. Noting everything carefully, Starbuck turned around to catch what she could.

"Not all that interesting to the layman," Daniel offered.

"What do you think this place is?"

"See, it's some sort of meeting room, we think," Daniel said a little too quickly. He wanted her to get out and fast. "Satisfied?"

"Not really," Starbuck answered gravely. "I'm sure we'll want to send down some of our scientists, too."

Softly, she ran her hand over a dusty inscription. Suddenly it sprang to life. Lights came on. Sounds of machinery humming filled the room. A door retracted. Banks of machines lined the next room. Lit on a pedestal was a chair with lights. Daniel groaned covering his eyes.

_Oh crap! I forgot she has the Ancient gene. Of course she started things. Just don't sit in that chair!_

Starbuck strode over to the chair and smiled with satisfaction, looking at all the blinking lights.

"Um, Captain, don't," Daniel gasped as Starbuck plopped herself down in the chair grinning and patting the arm rests. "Don't move! Don't think! Just get up, slowly and …"

"What the frak! It's not really comfortable, but you don't have to get all excited. I haven't messed up your precious little…"

Daniel's Tok'ra communicator started squawking with frantic shouts. It was the only thing that could penetrate so far down below ground. They were standard issue now for the SGC. Lt. Cadman's unit squawked as well. People were screaming for help.

With one thought, Cadman and Daniel ran to the chair, fairly throwing Starbuck out. Cadman sat down to try to control the situation. The chair reclined. She closed her eyes, fingering the soft gel pad on the arms of the chair. More screams came through Daniel's communicator. Someone ran down to the group.

"Dr. Jackson, two drones got loose!"

Another man arrived on the first one's heels.

"Dr. Jackson, there are four drones chasing a Puddle Jumper!"

"Anything," Daniel called to Cadman.

"I'm trying Jackson! Just shut up!" Cadman squeezed her eyes shut.

"Right, get that Jumper to land," ordered Daniel. "And have the crew bail out as fast as they can!"

"Dr. Jackson!" Another man ran into the room. "We've got drones going into orbit!"

Everyone stared at Cadman, struggling in the chair. The looks of horror let Starbuck know something was horribly wrong.

"Get her out of here! Captain, tell your fleet to jump! Jump NOW!

"What? I'll do no such…"

Daniel grabbed her arm and pulled hard. "Tell them to jump or they'll die!"

&&&&&&&&&&&&


	8. Chapter 8: Unintended Consequences

**Chapter 8: Unintended Consequences**

* * *

**Author's Note: **I wanted to get another chapter out, but it was running long so I split it between Chapters 7 and 8. Next chapter is nearly done. Thanks for your patience.

**

* * *

**

Galactica Flight Deck

"NO, what are you say-_ing_," Chief Tyrol hissed at Cally, his wife and first level maintenance tech. Cally sat on the edge of a Raptor with the Chief leaning over her in private conversation.

Cally looked as though she would cry. Her doe eyes filled to the rim. She looked down so he wouldn't see. He saw. She was his wife after all.

"You don't have to yell at me," she protested.

"I was not… oh frak," he lowered his voice. "Just say it."

"I was telling you that General O'Neill is immortal."

"What?"

"He's immortal. Everyone knows."

"What a load of crap! The guy is not normal, I'll agree. I've met him. But he is not immortal."

"Yes, he is. You know what they are saying?"

"No. What are THEY saying?" He shifted his weight to his other arm, leaning against the craft.

"They say he has died and been resurrected lots of times."

"That's blasphemy. I don't care, personally. But don't let any Geminons hear you say that. They'll kill you." Tyrol sighed heavily; looking around to make sure no one could hear them. "You listen to me. Don't repeat it. Not to anyone. I don't need the mother of my child and the best mechanic I've got shoved out an airlock by some religious fanatics." She glared at him. "Promise me." She glared at him some more. "Just promise me, Cally. I'd die if anything happened to you. That day on New Caprica… I …" he shook his head, choking up remembering the execution pit where he rescued her.

"It's the Geminons who say that O'Neill and Dr. Jackson are the reincarnation of Castor and Pollux. It has all happened and will happen again."

"What the frak are you talking about?"

"Both of them have died and been resurrected. And they are inseparable. And, every time one of them dies, he comes back to the other."

"What do you mean 'comes back'?"

Cally leaned in to whisper. "Each time Dr. Jackson died, he became a god. While he was a god, he showed himself to O'Neill. And when he came back as a human, each time, he returned to O'Neill." She raised two fingers holding them together, symbolizing they were a pair.

"Oh for pity's sake, Cally," Tyrol was put out. "If the man became a 'god' why would he come back?"

"I don't know," she whined back at him. "But Castor and Pollux do the same thing."

The Chief slapped his face with both hands rubbing his eyes to get control. This was the dumbest damn thing he'd heard from her yet. _Women!_

At that moment, alarms rang out. It was a call to battle stations.

* * *

**Galactica's CIC**

"Sir! Incoming bogey!" Lt. Commander Helo Agathon announced in a loud voice. Helo was a big man who could certainly project well. "Make that multiple bogeys."

"What?" Adama moved swiftly to the control table to watch the monitors. His wizened face went from disbelief to amazement. Some things were approaching at high velocity.

"Lt. what have you got?" Saul Tigh the 2IC ran a tight bridge.

"Don't know, sir, but it's coming up from the planet fast. And… Starbuck is on for you."

"Not now," Tigh growled, irritated at Starbuck by default.

"Sir, you should hear this."

"Switch it." Adama picked up the telephone receiver and held it to his ear.

"This is Starbuck. Jump the fleet. I say again jump the fleet. Do it NOW!"

"This is the Adama, explain."

"Some kind of missile accidentally fired from the surface. The fleet is a target. Urgent. Jump out. Say again, urgent, jump out."

"Plot an emergency jump. Alert all the commanders," Adama said forcefully. The bridge crew scurried to get the job done. The communications officer announced as each ship jumped.

"Sir, we have several Raptors shuttling supplies. We told them to jump, but they take longer." He listened. "Four of them jumped. One more."

"Bogey has acquired the Raptor."

"C'mon," Adama growled. "Racetrack, get outta there."

"Raptor is taking evasive action."

"Countermeasures," Adama ordered.

"Countermeasures away, sir."

"Okay, it jumped."

"How much longer for us?"

"Ten seconds, sir."

"Fire all countermeasures and launch missiles toward the incoming."

"Two bogeys have acquired the countermeasures. One is still on our tail."

It felt like an eternity as they counted down to the jump.

"One bogey still coming, sir."

"All hands, brace for impact," Tigh bellowed over the intercom.

"Incoming at 30,000…20,000, 10…5…"

The ship rocked from the impact. At that moment, the ship jumped.

**

* * *

****Arula: Puddle Jumper**

"What the heck was that," asked Richard Woolsey, the IOA liaison to Atlantis?

"That, Mr. Woolsey," replied Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, "was a drone. Nearly got us, too."

The crew stood in shock as the drone slid up to the Puddle Jumper on the ground as everyone was trying to exit. For no apparent reason, it stopped. Sheppard reached over to pick it up.

"DON'T …touch that!" Woolsey cowered behind the Jumper.

Activating his headset, Sheppard called for information. Daniel got on the line to explain.

"Tell the lieutenant she did good work." Sheppard glanced around at the others who were still hyperventilating. "How did it happen, Jackson?"

"Oh you know, someone touched something they shouldn't have."

"Was that someone you?"

"No, actually it was Captain Thrace."

Silence between the two spoke volumes. The Colonials were not supposed to know about Ancient technology let alone be allowed to use it.

"Is she there?"

"Not at the moment, no. She went to make sure the Colonial fleet jumped away. She accidentally sat in a chair. The rest… you can imagine."

"Unfortunately," Sheppard replied in alarm. "Any more still active?"

"No, Lt. Cadman managed to dispose of most of them."

"Most of them?"

"Yeah, about that, we think one hit the Galactica before it could bug out."

"Oh crap!"

"I need to talk to Jack."

"No kidding. You want me to pick you up?"

"No, no, I had better stay here. They're going to come soon enough. Just get a message to him."

"Dr. Jackson, this is Richard Woolsey. I heard. Colonel Sheppard will take me to President Roslin. She'll want to know what happened. Maybe I can explain. At least I can try. But I need to know exactly what happened."

"Um, Captain Thrace paid us an unannounced visit demanding to see inside the tomb. So we took her inside to show her it was just a dusty old tomb. I had only translated the entrance to the tomb. This morning we discovered there were more chambers below the tomb with more inscriptions. I hadn't had a chance to translate anything there when the Captain showed up wanting a tour. She said they were entitled to know what was down there. I thought it was just a tomb. So we went down into it.

Anyway, when she touched the inscriptions in the lower chamber, lights came on and machinery started. A door retracted to reveal an Ancient Chair weapon. Before we could stop her, she plopped into the chair and played with the gel pads in the armrests. The next thing we knew, people were calling for help because several drones launched. Some went for your Jumper. The rest went into orbit. Lt. Cadman took over the chair to try to stop the drones. I had Starbuck call the Galactica and urge them to jump. Cadman says she's pretty sure one hit before the ship managed to jump away. We don't know where it went. I guess it didn't jump fast enough. That's it."

Woolsey's legal mind went into high gear. Jackson became a client to him. Woolsey knew he had to do damage control as fast as possible. Giving a lawyer's advice he told Daniel, "Okay, don't answer any more questions. Nobody talks to anyone before I give the okay. I'm going to speak to the General and get permission to go to President Roslin. Let me handle this."

"If you need me, you know where to find me. Jackson out."

**

* * *

Arula: Officers Club**

At that same time, Lt. Felix Gaeta made his way to the Officer's Club for lunch. He had a regular contact meeting with Lt. Col. Cam Mitchell or his designate twice a week. Sure enough, today, Cam was waiting for him at the bar, popping peanuts and nursing a coke.

"Mitchell."

"Gaeta."

"That a 'coke' thingy that tastes like medicine?"

"No it's a coke thingy that tastes like …coke."

"I guess you have to be born to it."

"Nah, just need a caffeine fix and don't want coffee."

"Coffee's just about as nasty as coke," Felix made a grimace. The bartender waited for Felix to order. "A beer, please."

The bartender knew Felix had an account that O'Neill had granted him. Felix didn't know how payment worked other than no one seemed to use money. He assumed it was part of the rations. But O'Neill had authorized it so Felix would keep the line of communication open. He had no real way to pay for anything anyway. The general staff figured Gaeta was worth a few burgers and some beer.

The basketball game was on, so the two sat quietly watching the end of the game. From the back of the bar, some of the Atlantis contractors were cheering for the Knicks. Another set was screaming for the Lakers. Cam grinned watching Felix take it all in.

Once the game ended, Cam let the others file out before claiming a table in the corner. They ordered lunch. Once the blood sugar came up, probing began.

"Hearing some strange things, Mitchell."

"Yeah, like what isn't strange around here?"

"Yeah," Gaeta chuckled as he played with his glass. "No, I mean stranger than fiction strange."

"Like what?"

"We heard you have some sort of new medical technology that can revive a person."

"Dr. Beckett has lots of medical toys. Which one do you mean?"

Gaeta squirmed in his chair. He hated what he was about to ask. It was just so preposterous. "Um, a thing that can practically revive the dead?"

Cam pretended to be sucking down the rest of his coke, only there wasn't any so he chewed some ice. He knew neither Atlantis nor at the SGC had a sarcophagus. Reports indicated the Free Jaffa had gotten hold of a couple. But they weren't sharing.

"Who got hurt?"

"No one, I mean not just now, but maybe if someone did need extra care, would your people help?"

"We already said we would help. That's part of the agreement."

"So what does it do?"

"What?"

"The thing that revives people who are mostly dead?"

"What thing?"

"The medical device that you used on General O'Neill?"

"He's not injured."

"No, no, I mean before, when he was, you know…dead," Gaeta whispered.

"Dead? What kind of gossip are you hearing?"

_Where are they hearing these stories? We have got to plug some leaks. I'm calling an all hands meeting tonight! Crap, if he weren't Adama's man, I wouldn't answer. But General O'Neill told me gotta keep the pipeline open._

Gaeta shifted uncomfortably in his chair and turned to face Mitchell, nearly touching. He whispered, "We heard that General O'Neill has died and been revived from the dead. So we figure it's got something to do with some medical procedure or device that helps someone who is severely wounded. Am I right?"

"Yeah, he was severely injured a long time ago. How did you hear about that?"

"But we heard it was more than just injured, that O'Neill died."

Mitchell sighed. _How do I explain a sarcophagus? They are so jumpy this will freak them out. He looks like he's heard plenty. So he's heard about the General dying. Great, just what I don't need this morning._

"Lots and lots of times."

"Oh come on, Mitchell. That's not funny."

"No, it's horrible."

Gaeta searched Cam's face for signs of jest. But Cam was as earnest as he had ever been. Gaeta got scared. And Cam saw it.

"Look, Felix, it's not what you think."

"What do I think?"

"Is Admiral Adama asking about this, right now?"

"Yes."

"Ok," Cam sighed. "A few years ago, General O'Neill was captured by some bad guys back in our galaxy. He was tortured ok? We don't like to talk about it."

"Tortured? Wow!" Gaeta really didn't like what he was hearing. _Are the rumors true?_ "But not as in dead…?"

"Yes, tortured to death as in dead as a stone, dead as a stump, dead as my cousin Earl's car up on blocks. Take your pick."

"Dead dead, as in dead?" Cam nodded. Gaeta rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But he resurrected? How? Why?"

"Some bad guys have a device which can revive the dead, or what seems like dead to you or me."

"You're serious?"

"And what's more, General O'Neill didn't break. He never told them a thing."

"And you've used it?"

"No, thank God," Cam answered fervently. "And, we don't have one of those machines, although it's not for the lack of trying either."

"Holy Frak!" Gaeta sat back stunned.

At that moment his radio started squawking. "Gaeta." He listened with increasing alarm. His eyes widened and he stared at Cam. Cam's communicator went off. He activated his headset. Listening he stared back at Gaeta.

All hell broke loose.

&&&&&&&&&&&&


	9. Chapter 9: Jeopardy

**Chapter 9: Jeopardy**

**

* * *

A/N: Mild Spoiler warning for the end of Season Three sort of: Just reminding the reader that this AU story diverged from the show at the end of Season Two. To solve my confusion, Lee Adama is still commander of the Pegasus as a Major. Athena is Sharon Agathon. All other characters are present as of Season Two's status. Baltar follows canon as of Season Three. So the AU is a little pick and choose from here on. ****

* * *

Arula: Roslin's Office **

"What do you mean the fleet isn't there?"

President Laura Roslin listened intently as Tory Foster, her aide, explained that no one could raise the Galactica or any other ship in orbit. Her morning was not going well.

Laura Roslin came to politics late in her career. As the only cabinet member in the government to survive the holocaust, she became president. After the sordid events on New Caprica, she was president again with even broader support.

Now in her mid-forties, Laura Roslin discovered that she enjoyed the power of office. And she knew how to wield it with a fist of iron in a velvet glove…usually. Roslin was a handsome woman, who knew how to charm the men with whom she had dealings. It helped to be feminine while also being stronger than her opponents gave her credit. Many men made that mistake. Here on Arula in the Pegasus Galaxy far from home, she was facing issues no other leader of her people ever had. Not least among them was dealing with hostile aliens and new untested friends.

Compounding the problems was the realization that she had a place in the prophecies of Pythia. Due to the chamalla root she took for her breast cancer, Roslin discovered she could see visions. She believed that she was the dying leader prophesized who would lead the Colonists to Earth. There was one big obstacle to that role. The leaders of Earth were not laying out the welcome mat. In fact, they had informed her in no uncertain terms that the Colonials could not come until a horrendous scandalous secret could be revealed to their populace. Earth did not know about their governments' extraterrestrial adventures and wars.

Worse, one Major General Jack O'Neill stood in the way, guarding the secret of Earth's location. And yet, O'Neill offered a helping hand to the destitute Colonial Fleet. Operating on a single handshake with Admiral Adama, O'Neill kept to the letter and the spirit of the agreement. So long as the Colonials agreed to cooperate as allies with the Atlantis military base he commanded, Earth would repair, re-supply, and settle the Colonials comfortably for the duration.

Unfortunately, Roslin had gotten off to a bad start with the General on a personal level. Roslin understood he was the supreme military commander on Atlantis. His word was law. She resented the fact her people were completely dependent on his good will. In fact, she harbored a deep seated distrust of an autocratic military man with that much power.

Recently, rumors suggested that he had a peculiar history with another associate, Dr. Daniel Jackson. The entire Fleet was in an uproar over their supposed deaths and resurrections along with the transformation of Jackson into a god…multiple times. Some whispered loudly that O'Neill was an immortal living among men as a demigod. He certainly had the respect and awe due one from his subordinates. In Roslin's mind, the rumors suggested he had a bigger role to play in Pythia's religious prophecies.

And now the Fleet was missing. Roslin was not having a good morning on Arula.

"Ma'am," the dark haired assistant replied, "we also have Starbuck on the line. She insists that she speak with you personally, something about a missile accidentally launching."

"Well, put her on." Roslin picked up the telephone receiver. What she heard made her startle. "Where are you now, Captain?"

"I'm at the water works with Dr. Jackson. I went for an inspection of the dig this morning. Somehow, I don't understand it, but somehow I set off several missiles. Dr. Jackson urged me to warn the Fleet. I spoke with the Admiral advising them to jump out. He is telling me one hit the Galactica before it did. That's all I know, ma'am."

"You set it off. Are you sure it was you?"

"Yes ma'am," Starbuck paused. "They are very upset with me."

"Are you alone with them?"

"My team has the dig under surveillance outside their perimeter. But yes, I'm alone and unarmed."

"Captain," Roslin snarled, "this is a diplomatic issue now. I will handle it. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And Captain… do you understand the phrase 'no comment'?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Use it," Roslin slammed down the phone.

Turning to Tory Foster, Roslin told her to get General O'Neill on the line. Tory called Major Lorne at the Stargate telling him to engage the Stargate so they could speak to General O'Neill via the radio link previously established."

"Ma'am," Major Lorne informed Tory. "General O'Neill is being briefed on the situation right now. Please ask the President to wait a few minutes."

"Ma'am, the Major says someone is briefing the General right now. They ask you to wait a few minutes."

"Fine, stay on the line."

Meanwhile, Woolsey made his report to the General from Arula via the M.A.L.P. Jack listened with dismay and then anger.

"Oy," he groaned. "What do you propose?"

"General, I want to go directly to Roslin to let her know communications are open and to smooth the situation. I told Dr. Jackson to stay put and say nothing until I advise him otherwise."

"Good call, Dick. Okay, go smooth what must be some very ruffled feathers. But make it clear that her officer did this. The emergency jump point is the Beta Site. We'll try to contact the Fleet and find out what happened. Tell her we'll support communications to them."

"Okay, I'll tell her you sent people to look for them. She's probably trying to call you herself. Woolsey out."

Once he was off, the Atlantis communications Tech let Tory know the General was available. Roslin picked up the phone to speak with the man who had become her worst nightmare. The religious frenzy over him was sweeping the fleet. It was becoming a firestorm. This situation didn't help matters. She knew once the news media got wind of this morning's events it could consume her administration.

* * *

**Galactica CIC**

The bridge was a hive of activity. In the emergency lighting, damage control crews worked feverishly to get systems back online. The air was already increasingly fetid with personal sweat and the odors of burnt circuits. Colonel Tigh firmly directed the bridge crew interfacing with department heads on the radios. Internally, Adama fumed in his impotence and at Starbuck. But he never showed a glimmer of it. The chief had to be calm.

The Communications Officer reported, "Battery power on communications is operational."

"That's something," Tigh growled in his gravel voice. He had to tilt his head a little to see her now that he had only one eye, hence the derogatory nickname, the 'Tigh-clops'. Once again he hadn't bothered to shave for a few days. His bristly grey nubs added to his fierce appearance.

"Get me Pegasus actual," demanded Adama. The call went through to the commander of the Pegasus. He hoped that Lee Adama, his son, had returned from the surface before they had to jump. Lee had been down on the surface meeting with Roslin over the religious frenzy developing about General O'Neill and Dr. Jackson.

"Pegasus actual," replied Lee's voice. Adama sighed. So something went right this morning.

"We've taken damage. Systems are down. Take over dradis scans of the system. And get us a sit-rep and roll call. Requesting repair crews."

"Copy that. What the frak happened? Anyone know?"

"Starbuck reported missiles accidentally launched from the surface. She told us to make an emergency jump out. One of them hit us."

"Frak! When do you want the repair crews?"

"RFN!" Tigh chimed in. He shrugged at Adama, grumbling that right frakking now wasn't soon enough. Adama didn't bother to react. He just hung up.

"Contact the picket at the Beta Site and ask for the Atlantis representative," Adama instructed.

During the first joint maneuvers preparations, Adama and O'Neill had planned an emergency jump point to a planet with a Stargate, thus designating it the Beta Site. O'Neill didn't want the Fleet to jump to the Alpha Site and risk compromising it to the Wraith's sensors. No one knew yet if the Wraith could track the Fleet when it jumped. Opinion was divided on whether they could track a jump or if they could discern the arrival because of the massive disturbance at the destination. Both Colonial and Atlantis personnel manned a picket at that location.

"I want to speak to O'Neill. We have to know when it is safe to return."

"Yes sir," the Communications petty officer acknowledged. A few minutes later he alerted the Admiral. "Sir, our picket let the President know we are here. She's talking with O'Neill at the moment."

"Okay, I want to talk to him when she's done."

* * *

**Arula: Roslin's office**

"Madam President," Woolsey sighed. "I'm here as an act of good faith. I want to reassure you that as the resident representative of the IOA, I am as high an official as you could want. We want to keep open communications between us. So I'll stay as long as you have need of me."

"That's encouraging, Mr. Woolsey," President Roslin sensed a negotiating opportunity. "What exactly happened, according to you, Mr. Woolsey?"

"As you know, Dr. Jackson is an archaeologist. He wanted to excavate an ancient tomb by the water works. To that end, we came to you for permission, which you granted. This morning they discovered additional chambers below the original tomb. About that time, Captain Thrace arrived for an unscheduled site inspection. Dr. Jackson immediately granted her entrance. She was also told in no uncertain terms by Dr. Jackson not to disturb the site. He explained that she mustn't touch or remove anything. Archaeologists understand clues to a site based upon where they find things in relation to other things at the site as well as what is found and the condition of those things."

"I'm aware of what an archaeologist does at a dig, Mr. Woolsey."

"Good," Woolsey answered with respect. "Dr. Jackson tried to explain to the Captain the whys and wherefores of archaeology protocols. She agreed to cooperate. Dr. Jackson repeated his warning several times as they entered the tomb. They descended to all the rooms discovered. However," Woolsey paused. "However, she ran her fingers over the inscriptions on the walls of the lowest chamber. She must have hit some switch in the wall. A previously unseen door retracted from the wall revealing another chamber with machinery in it."

"What kind of machinery?"

"We don't know yet. But there was one thing we have run into before, a chair that can launch missiles. Before Dr. Jackson and Lt. Cadman could stop her, the Captain flopped down in the chair and cavalierly played with the controls. That's when cries for help came over the communicators. They removed the Captain from the chair and tried to get control of the situation."

"They did? How?"

"For one thing, Dr. Jackson immediately urged Captain Thrace to alert the Galactica that missiles could be headed for the Fleet in orbit. She spoke to Admiral Adama urging him to jump the fleet out. Just as the Galactica jumped, one of the missiles hit. That's as much as we know at this time. I spoke with General O'Neill to tell him the situation. He wants you to know that he is contacting the Beta Site where we hope the Fleet went. As you agreed, that is the pre-arranged emergency jump point. The General wants you to know that he will do everything possible to support your communications with the Fleet if they are there. Otherwise, we have to hope they send a ship back to report."

"Thank you for such a complete statement, Mr. Woolsey." President Roslin paused to collect her thoughts. What he said agreed so far with what Starbuck reported already.

"Madame President, I would urge you to send your own security forces to the dig site to augment our troops there. It would be prudent to have your own people there in case some of the populace misinterprets the situation. They should encounter their own people there, not just ours."

"I'll take that under advisement, Mr. Woolsey." Roslin studied him, trying to judge his intent. So far, he was acting honorably. "I can't help but wonder Mr. Woolsey why you had so many troops there in the first place. It was supposed to be just a tomb."

"Since the disturbance last week, Dr. Jackson has been the target of threats. They were there for his protection."

"I see. Mr. Woolsey, while I can understand that, many of my people will not. In fact, this whole matter will be scrutinized by our media. There will be those who think that your people are involved in some sort of conspiracy to fire on the fleet with this weapon or that you were trying to steal it from us."

"If that were true, why would we have come to you first? And, it's hardly covert to have so many personnel standing outside the site in broad daylight for days. Not to mention the fact that your personnel were admitted on demand." Woolsey paused, "and then there is the fact that I came immediately to you and am willing to remain until the matter is settled. So I fail to see how anyone could misconstrue the situation."

"Nevertheless, that would be their explanation for why so many armed military personnel were at the site and why we were attacked again."

"Again? We never attacked you. What do you mean?"

"The recent disturbance is seen by most of the people as an assault on our freedoms, the most important being the freedom of religion. Now we have an actual assault on our ships. I may not be able to persuade them that this was indeed an accident."

Woolsey stiffened. He realized that she was after something. She was trying to use the media as a club to gain something. But what?

"Then Madame President, I suggest that you act swiftly to control your press and spin the story in the best possible light. Otherwise, you might be seen to be unable to control the situation at all. May I suggest that Captain Thrace make a statement to the press?"

"Mr. Woolsey, even if I have Starbuck make a statement regarding her role in this affair, there will be those who will believe she is being pressured to say these things."

"Then Madame President, I would ask you how that could possibly benefit you or our future working relationship."

Woolsey paused to let her consider the fact that he wasn't being blackmailed to the least. Obviously she wanted something. He had no idea what that could be. He wasn't even sure he could provide it, whatever IT was.

Roslin sat there silently reviewing his words. She knew there was an opportunity, but she couldn't think how to formulate her demands. Ultimately, she wanted to have the Fleet settle on Earth. At least, she wanted to know where it was. But this incident would not be enough to force out that information, unless she made it large enough. On a more immediate note, she had to repair the damage done to her stature in the recent riots. And she wanted more information about O'Neill and Jackson.

"No matter what we say, the populace is not going to let this go."

"The fact remains that we both know the truth. Your officer recklessly ignored an eminent scholar's warnings. Her actions directly resulted in this mess."

"Since when has the truth had anything to do with politics, Mr. Woolsey?"

"Since your people agreed to accept our considerable and generous help. But if you feel you would rather not associate with us, please, do what you must."

"I'll take that under advisement too, Mr. Woolsey."

* * *

**Atlantis: O'Neill's office**

"Fine, but it's going to come out sooner or later. Just don't let it bite us in the ass, Dick." Jack listened in his headset to a recap of the discussion with Roslin. He was tired of her. In his opinion, Woolsey could deal with her all day if it meant he didn't have to.

"Speaking of things that are going to bite us in the ass, as you say, have you reached the Asgaard?"

"We are still waiting for them to call back. I figure when the Daedalus arrives, we'll get Hermiod on the line to the High Council. I hope no one can hear you, Dick."

"No, no one is around."

"Well, you know the cliché, 'the walls have ears.' And you know how I hate clichés." Jack rubbed the hair at the nape of his neck. "Tell her that we made contact with the Fleet at the Beta Site. They'll be sending a Raptor back to report anytime now."

Jack smiled ruefully. Sure enough, one of the Beta Site troops came escorting a very young Colonial officer. Colonel Sheppard beckoned them to come up and report. Shortly, Lt. Dualla arrived to join the others for the briefing.

"Got company from the Beta Site," Jack finished. "I guess that's my cue, Dick. Let Roslin know I'm going to get Daniel out of there just in case."

"You really think they would hurt him?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "They might."

"I'll let her know. Woolsey out."

Jack turned his attention to the new arrivals, leaving the office to lope over to Sheppard. Jack never did like to sit behind a desk. Most of his time was spent taking care of business as he walked around the base. To his aide he said, "Hold my calls." He turned his attention to the Captain from the Beta Site. "Report, son."

"General O'Neill, sir," the Atlantis marine began. The Colonial's eyes widened and he swallowed hard realizing he was standing before O'Neill himself. He stared. O'Neill ignored him, directing his attention to his own soldier.

"Did the entire Fleet make it to the Beta Site?"

"Yes, sir, but the Galactica sustained considerable damage."

"Adama?"

"He's fine.,,:

"In my office."

Sheppard followed with the other three inside O'Neill's office. With a nod from O'Neill, Sheppard began the briefing.

"Lt. Dualla, there has been an unfortunate accident with the Galactica. We are just hearing about it. Lieutenant, we received word that an alien missile fired from the surface of Arula. It hit the Galactica."

"Oh no!"

"Apparently," Sheppard said quietly, "Captain Thrace paid Dr. Jackson a visit at the dig by the water works. She touched something and set it off. This is Captain Sheffield, from the Beta Site, who has come with your officer to report."

Dualla's eyes snapped over to the pair.

Report, Ensign, How bad is it?"

"A missile from the surface hit the water tanks and cut through the power generators. The Pegasus has sent repair crews. We are operating on emergency batteries for the moment."

"Casualties?"

"No one was killed, sir, but there are many wounded," answered the Ensign, whose young voice cracked with nervousness. Standing before O'Neill had him on edge. He would have stolen a glance at the now living sometimes dead demigod but training kicked in and so he continued professionally. "We haven't been able to make a count yet."

Jack activated his headset to speak to his aide. "Tell Dr. Beckett to ready emergency mobile medical teams." To the Colonials he added, "Our operating rooms will be ready."

All the Colonials could do was nod, silently. Lt. Dualla's concern showed on her finely boned face. A slightly built woman, she was certainly one of the more intelligent officers in the Fleet now.

"Sir," she addressed O'Neill. "I should get back there to help."

"Negative, Lieutenant. We need you here for just this sort of situation. Your job is to coordinate with us and report directly to me. I want to speak to the Admiral." Jack stood up. "We've got an emergency. Let's move it people."

A few moments later, the Stargate engaged. The communications Tech alerted O'Neill that Adama was calling. Jack activated his headset and listened.

"Bill, I have medical teams ready to assist. You can send your wounded to us directly. I've got the Jumpers ready to go to you."

"Thanks, Jack. We could use some repair crews, too. Can you tell me what hit us?"

Jack sighed. It was going to come out sooner rather than later. "Later Bill, let's concentrate on the situation. When you have things sorted out, I'll brief you myself."

"Fair enough. What's the situation at Arula?"

"Snafu… um situation normal all fouled up."

"I mean are any more weapons firing?"

"No, we have the thing locked down. It's safe to return."

"Negative, the Galactica can't jump right now."

"Copy that. I'll send Dr. McKay to scope the situation. He's a pistol but he's harmless. Requesting Lt. Gaeta to go with Colonel Mitchell to the Beta Site to work things from there."

"Fine. Galactica actual out."

On his headset, Sheppard put out the call for all pilots to man the Jumpers. While he directed the Jumper effort, people started moving with all speed to obey O'Neill's commands. Lt. Dualla moved off with the Colonial officer to hear the rest of the report. Jack moved to the Control Room to stay on top of the situation. Since Dr. Weir was still on Earth, he took charge ordering technical teams to render assistance. So, Sheppard contacted Dr. McKay. Jack listened in on his headset.

"McKay here."

"Gear up and take a team of engineers to the Galactica. There's been an accident. Coordinate with them to get whatever they need ASAP."

"What sort of accident?"

"Drone damage," he whispered into his headset. "Dr. Jackson found an Ancient Chair weapon on Arula. Captain Thrace accidentally launched some at the Galactica and at least one hit it. She nearly killed me too in a Jumper."

"Oh my God!"

"And McKay," Sheppard cut in. "Remember what we talked about. You don't know about the Ancient gene. And you tell them you don't know how this happened. You are just there to make repairs. Refer all questions to me."

"But I do know how this happened and how am I supposed to do my job if…"

"Get over it, McKay," Sheppard interrupted. "Just keep your mouth shut and fix the damn ship. That's an order."

"What am I now, the Maytag repairman? But sure, of course, I get it. You need a GENIUS to fix some circuits and pipes. I'll just get my space wrench and go plumbing where no Astrophysicist has gone before."

"Hey genius, you ended that sentence in a preposition." O'Neill muttered 'd'oh' under his breath. "Move it mister."

"That's, um, doctor, I'm a doctor of …"

"Oh for crying out loud," O'Neill switched him off, looking exasperated.

"I'll take him, sir," Sheppard volunteered to O'Neill.

"No, I want you to take command on Arula. You have the Gene for the Jumper and the Chair. First, I want you to get Daniel away from the dig. And Sheppard, cloak the Jumper if you have to," Jack said very softly. "But I want you to get more troops over to the Chair site and secure the location. Lt. Cadman has to stay to work the Chair and prevent it from being damaged by a mob. Take enough zats for everyone. I don't want us to kill any of them. Zero. Understood?"

"Yes, sir, zats."

"Find out how many drones we are talking about. Then get back to me with the count. Stay on the Tok'ra communicators only. Keep calling the drones 'missiles'. I'm sending Mitchell with Gaeta to the Beta Site. If it looks like things are going south, your job is to get our people off Arula. I'm hoping it won't come to that."

"Yes, sir." Sheppard moved quickly off to the Jumper Bay to start pre-flight check out.

"Get me Colonel Mitchell," Jack ordered the Communications Tech. After the Gate engaged, Jack spoke quickly via the Tok'ra communicators. Since they didn't use the same radio technology the Colonial's used, they were a more secure form of communication.

"Mitchell, this is Atlantis Base." Swiftly O'Neill briefed Mitchell. He ordered Mitchell to the Beta Site.

"Colonel, brief Lt. Gaeta… minimally. Call the drone a 'missile' if you must. Tell him we ran into this before but we don't know exactly how these things work, which is why we secured the site. Emphasize it was an accident. Someone touched something they shouldn't have. Tell him Admiral Adama granted our request for him to be your liaison for the emergency operations at the Beta Site. I want you to go there as my point man and as our liaison with Adama. He knows you.

Contact Adama to let him know you are there. Take charge of our operations of the Beta and Alpha Sites from the Beta Site. I'm sending McKay with repair guys by Jumper along with medics. Use the Jumpers to get the wounded to our facilities. Dr. Beckett has the O.R. crews standing by here."

"Yes, sir I'm on it."

Jack switched to the radio provided by the Colonials so Atlantis could contact them on their own equipment. The Tech managed to raise Roslin's office.

"Madame President, Jack O'Neill."

"Yes, General, I was hoping you would call."

"Yes, I just learned about the accident. I want to emphasize that is was just that, an accident. I spoke to Admiral Adama. The Fleet is now at the Beta Site, as we agreed. Admiral Adama sent a representative here who just met with me and Lt. Dualla."

"That's reassuring to know. What is the situation?"

"The Galactica has taken damage. There are wounded. The Admiral gave us permission to send medics by Puddle Jumpers to evacuate the wounded to Atlantis and the Alpha Site medical facilities. He requested repair crews. So I'm sending our engineers and technicians supervised by Dr. McKay. Also, I am sending Colonel Mitchell to the Beta Site to coordinate the efforts from there. We asked Admiral Adama for permission to have Lt. Gaeta go with Colonel Mitchell as liaison to these efforts. I'm also increasing our troops at the dig."

"I see." She paused deliberately. "General, I am sending our security forces to augment yours at the digging site."

"Yes ma'am. For now, believe me when I say it is imperative that no one touch anything in there."

"General," Roslin said with deadly calm. "I realize you have control of whatever weapon is at that site. Consider this an official protest."

"Look, we didn't know it was there. Ma'am, you granted our request to excavate the tomb. We excavated."

"I authorized the dig because it was of archaeological significance. You agreed to include our scientists and you promised full disclosure. I never authorized your troops to secure the site. You should have contacted this office for permission and assistance. No doubt you suspected something was there or you would not have had troops there in the first place."

"Ma'am, the troops were there for Dr. Jackson's protection. Unfortunately, your officer disobeyed Dr. Jackson and touched things he asked her not to touch."

"So you are trying to blame this on us?" O'Neill rubbed her the wrong way on a good day. This was not a good day.

"We told her not to touch. She touched. It's your own damn fault this happened."

Jack listened for a moment before he realized she had hung up on him.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' to the requests," he said to no one in particular.

* * *

**Atlantis Control Room**

The crew in the Control Room worked seamlessly to get supplies and personnel to and from the Beta Site, the Alpha Site, and Arula. Long range scanners kept watch for any anomalies and to track Jumpers in the local systems. Already the Daedalus showed on the deep space tracking. As enlisted personnel and civilian scientists scurried to assist, Jack surveyed the scene making command adjustments as requests came in. They had been at it for a few hours. He was getting hungry. Since matters were under control for the most part, he decided to get something to eat.

"Carter," Jack called over his headset. Getting no reply he tried again. "Carter, you there? How about some lunch?"

Still hearing nothing, he asked the Tech to check for Carter on the base system. He shook his head.

"Check around, maybe she's in some lab absorbed with her latest doohickey."

After a few minutes, the Tech reported someone had seen her leave early for the Galactica to talk to the biologists about the Cylons. Jack's face turned to stone. If she hadn't called in by now, something was wrong.

* * *

**Galactica: Hallway near the morgue**

In the dust filled air, several people stirred, moaning from their injuries. Debris covered some of the bodies. Loose wiring let off occasional sparks as they touched, swinging from the concussion. Sirens continued to blare. A dull throbbing in her head, Sam Carter shook herself awake and regretted the sharp movements. She swallowed back her bile as the nausea from the pain swept over her. Her throat was dry. All she could do was to stare up at the ceiling willing the pain to subside. It wasn't working. She lost consciousness again.


	10. Chapter 10: A Higher Half Truth

**Chapter 10: A Higher Half-truth**

**Galactica**

The Galactica repair crews raced to seal off compartments exposed to the vacuum of space. But it wasn't enough. So many years of patching and repairing an old ship without access to spare parts left the crews with little to use. Galactica's commander, Admiral William Adama was grateful for Atlantis offers of help. While many feared the new association, Adama felt cautiously optimistic. So far, this new group of humans seemed to be gods send. At any rate, they were willing to help, whatever their final objective. The situation needed resources immediately. Later could wait.

Atlantis scientist, Dr. Rodney McKay, went with a team of Galactica damage control teams to assess the more complex damage to the power generators. McKay was most interested in the power generation issues and how they tied into the jump drives. As such, he was the most likely Atlantis personnel to be able to help with the generators and the jump drive.

The generators and Faster Than Light (FTL) 'jump' drive used something called Tyllium. As far as anyone could tell, Tyllium was not naquadah or its derivative, naquadria. At least Tyllium could be mined from a planet… carefully. So, SG Teams were scouring the two galaxies looking for some without success.

Recently, McKay had been working with engineers to use naquadah generators as substitutes for non-propulsion systems. This day he brought several naquadah generators and the techs to install them. As powerful as the naquadah generators were, the power consumption of a Battlestar propulsion system was more enormous than the devices could handle. So they were used for secondary systems and life support.

"We can't pass any farther, Dr. McKay," Chief Tyrol announced. The chief ran the Flight Deck on the Galactica, but was also the highest ranking non-com engineer. He knew the ship. Looking at the damaged bulkhead, he told McKay, "The ship is open to space past this point."

"What exactly was supposed to be there?"

"Here," Tyrol put up a schematic drawing of this section. "We had spare parts in one section. The other compartment had the actual generators. If it's gone, the only ones left are on the port side of the ship. We split the two power plants for just this situation. However, the missile ripped right through to the port side. We lost two out of four generators there. It will be months before we can fabricate more, if we can find the materials."

"What about your refined ore supplies?"

"Most of it is on the ore processing ship and some is on each ship. We keep those supplies completely separate from the engines and the generators because Tyllium is highly explosive at high temperatures."

"So, secondary explosions are a factor," McKay finished. "Ok, you have fuel, but not enough generators."

"We could try to tie in some from the other ships, but their generators are only for civilian craft and not powerful enough. The Pegasus needs the ones it has. They have no spares. One of our ships has to be at full readiness."

"McKay," he activated his headset. "Bring a naquadah Mark VI to the Chief's office on the flight deck. Yes, now. What do you think I'm doing? Waiting for a bus?" McKay turned to the Chief, "I have something that might work. Get a few of your senior engineers and master technicians to join us."

"Naquadah generator?"

"Yeah, very powerful. We've been working on ways to marry the two types of systems. We're always patching alien tech into our stuff."

"You can do that?"

"Odd, but yes." McKay waited for the Chief to lead the way back. "You should see Sam, er, Colonel Carter do it, of course, not as well as I can. She learned it from me. She's a real artist with alien tech. She's like a fine pianist. Piano, um that's a musical instrument. I'm quite good with one of those, too. Speaking of which," McKay activated the headset. "McKay, where's Colonel Carter? We could use her on the flight deck. Tell her to put down whatever creepy Cylon body part she's handling and try some real work."

McKay's face fell as he listened. His eyes widened as he learned that Sam was missing last seen at the morgue. "Oh crap!" Turning to Chief Tyrol he grabbed the man's shoulders going nose to nose. "Quick, where is the morgue?"

"It's two decks down."

"We have to get down there."

"We can't. It's either open to space or impassable. Most of that deck is just gone."

"Gone? Oh, um, think McKay. Can we get to it from the outside? We should take a look at this from the outside, right? I mean we need to know." McKay choked up. "Colonel Carter may still be there. It's got air if it's still there?"

"I don't know." Tyrol called the bridge to ask. No one had an answer.

"Tell them I want a ship to go look. And I need a pilot. What am I saying? We have Jumpers." McKay hurried off to the Flight Deck, yelling into his headset to roust a team for a Jumper. "I'll fly the damn thing myself if I have to. I've done it before. I'm getting good at ad hoc rescues. No make that great."

Tyrol had no choice but to follow. These Atlantis people were another breed. But this one reminded Tyrol of Gaius Baltar and his arrogant brilliance. The Chief called Cally to get whatever was in the way out of the way before they got there. Going outside to look was a good idea no matter whose it was.

By then, they were running.

* * *

**President Roslin's office on Arula**

"Mr. Woolsey, this situation is exactly the reason we should be sent to Earth," Roslin hung up the phone after Adama's initial report from the Beta Site. "The Galactica is seriously damaged. It can't jump. It's lost the power generators as well as the water tanks with their purification system. I've got over thirty thousand people in another star system because the two Battlestars guard the civilian fleet. And now, one has to guard both the civilians and the other Battlestar. Until the Galactica can jump, no one can come back."

"I realize it is an inconvenience, Ma'am, but the Daedalus is due back in a day or so. It is more than capable of protecting the Fleet."

"Really, Mr. Woolsey?" Roslin said flatly. She wasn't asking. She was accusing. "So that leaves us and Atlantis without a ship. In other words, this accident may finally open your eyes."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Atlantis just yet, Ma'am," Woolsey said confidently.

He knew the shields, the cloak, and the Ancient Chair weapon were all operational. Moreover, the Chair had been re-stocked. There were even enough spare drones to refill the one in Antarctica twice over. Because of today's discovery, he knew O'Neill was hoping that this accident revealed another source of drones to salvage. Even better, this chair had a working Z.P.M. to power it. Starbuck had launched half a dozen as proof. Maybe there was more down there.

"You look far too satisfied, Mr. Woolsey." Roslin eyed him carefully.

"I'm happy that no one was killed and that we continue to have your cooperation." Woolsey's lawyer mentality gave him the smooth response. "As long as I'm here, perhaps we could plan a joint statement to your media?"

Roslin smiled with half her upper lip in a rueful gesture. "No doubt, we shall ask you to make a statement. But I already have my staff working on the press conference." She indicated her aide in the outer office making calls. "Nearly everyone is…elsewhere. So there's no rush."

"Ma'am, it is a simple matter to broadcast to the fleet at the Beta Site.

"It is. Well, that's comforting to know." Roslin wasn't sure how that was useful. Still being able to reassure the populace would show her control of the situation. She nodded in agreement. "Then as soon as we are ready, we would like to accept General O'Neill's kind offer to support our communications while separated."

"Then is there any other issue you would like to discuss?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is," Roslin sat back and settled in comfortably. "We are curious, Mr. Woolsey about your advanced medicine."

"What specifically would you like to know?"

"Since we have many injured who need medical attention, I would like to thank you for offering medical assistance. The Galactica's medical facilities have lost power and may be damaged. The Pegasus is nearly out of medical supplies even after your generous deliveries. So many needed attention that we have nearly used up what we have received. They will be overwhelmed quickly. What I would like to know is if there are any restrictions on your doctors about the care they are allowed to render?"

Woolsey seemed surprised. "Of course not, they will receive the same high standards of care we offer all our people."

"That is a generous offer. But still, I wonder if there are more effective life saving possibilities on Earth. If your doctors here can not provide certain expertise, will you offer my people those opportunities on Earth?"

"Each case will be considered individually, ma'am. If someone needs a specialist or care we cannot provide here," Woolsey paused. "Of course, we would need your approval now so that decisions can be made by the doctors quickly on site. That is if you trust us."

"I'm learning to trust you, Mr. Woolsey. I am gratified to know that your people are so…charitable." She seemed pensive. "But I am wondering what you will do if someone dies in your care."

"The body will be returned here, of course."

"Wouldn't you try to revive that person?"

"If the doctors pronounce them dead, what else could we do?"

"I'm asking you, Mr. Woolsey. What indeed?"

Roslin realized Woolsey had no idea what she meant. His face registered confusion. She wondered how to ask it more directly without tipping her hand that she knew more.

* * *

**Atlantis**

General O'Neill stood there directing the rescue efforts feeling helpless to do something for Carter. Reports filtering back from the Beta Site indicated she had been in the decks destroyed by the drone. Still, they'd come out alive so many times, this was one more. Wasn't it?

"Is the Daedalus in range yet?" O'Neill paced looking out at the Gate activities.

"No sir, not for another 7 hours." The Tech didn't say that only ten minutes had passed since the last time asked.

"What are in those boxes," Jack rumbled.

"EVA suits, sir, in case they have to get inside from the outside."

"Right. What about…"

"Already sent, sir." The Tech knew the General pretty well by now.

"Anyone have one of those Goa'uld hand healing doodads," O'Neill asked his aide?

"Yes, sir. We have one in Dr. Beckett's office safe. But with Colonel Carter…unavailable… you are the only person present who can operate it."

Jack had a mental shudder. His blending with Kanan left residual naquadah in his blood so he could operate Goa'uld devices. He didn't like to admit it or dwell. Everyone knew a blended host could.

"Dial the SGC," Jack ordered. The Gate dialed the eight chevrons necessary for intergalactic gate travel and engaged. "This is Atlantis Base, O'Neill for Landry."

Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman paged Landry to the Control Room overlooking the Stargate.

"Hank, we have a situation. We found an Ancient outpost on the Colonial's planet Arula. One of their officers set off drones from a Chair Weapon. The Galactica took damage. Lots of wounded."

"Copy that. What do you need?" Landry frowned.

"Send Vala and another one of those Goa'uld hand healing devices. We also need more medical supplies, doctors, and a few medics if you can spare them. Plain text message is coming with a list. We may need burn specialists and some thoracic surgeons for heavy trauma injuries. Have Dr. Lam send what she thinks will help immediately and work the problem there from that end. And contact the Tok'ra. We could use some more of those hand healer doohickeys. Tell them they might wind up with some volunteers out of it."

O'Neill referred to the idea of using terminal patients as Tok'ra hosts. If a dying patient would agree, he could blend with a symbiote for a cure. It was a given that the Tok'ra could operate the hand healers. So could Vala. She was another resource for using Goa'uld devices, having been a host. So she had the necessary naquadah in her blood, as did O'Neill and Carter.

"I don't like that part. I'll have to call the Pentagon on that one. I'll let you know. And Jack, Vala is off-world on business with SG-13. They should check in later today, but I can't guarantee when."

"Copy that. Hank, we have a treaty or we had one with the Tok'ra. See if any are still willing to come or if they have a line on a sarcophagus. And ask Teal'c to persuade the Jaffa to share."

"You know they categorically said no the last time. They don't think we have a treaty any more. The new leader is a real hard ass about us lowly Tau'ri."

"Hank," Jack paused briefly. "Hank…Carter is missing. She was onboard."

Landry blinked. His eyes grew hard as ice. He knew Carter was not expendable. Still she insisted on these front line posts, however much the brass tried to keep her out of firefights these days. They had detailed her to Atlantis as Jack's second-in-command. At least, she wasn't leading frontline teams out on expeditions anymore. But it was never that simple.

"Consider it done, Jack, Landry out." Turning to the diminutive non-com he said, "Get Teal'c on the line. Those Jaffa sons of bitches are going to come through this time."

* * *

**Galactica CIC**

The reports on casualties were not as bad as they could have been. Many personnel were working on Arula trying to get it habitable as quickly as possible. Once they were finished with their shifts on board ship, most did another shift down on the planet. Casualties were on the decks which contained the morgue, the generators, the water treatment facility, and the water tanks. The water tanks required most of the space damaged in the ship. The loss of the water treatment facility was bad enough. But it was largely automated, as were the generators. The morgue was unused since no battles had been fought for two months. Only Cylon bodies used for scientific analysis remained. The two deaths from natural causes had been buried on the planet below. The generators needed only a skeleton staff since power requirements had been minimal recently. Some of them had been doing related chores in other compartments when the missile hit. Some people were in corridors adjacent on the decks affected or in offices above or below. Still, the loss was devastating.

Colonel Saul Tigh handled the rescue efforts, coordinating from the bridge. He directed the teams to the resources available and made the necessary decisions. As the Atlantis Jumpers arrived on the Flight Deck with rescue and repair teams, he directed that effort as well. Adama listened to the man and was glad his old friend had once again stepped up to the plate and operated as the efficient officer Adama knew he could be. Saul's functional alcoholism was well known. Now that they had new access to a new supply of beverages, Saul had actually cut back. This morning he was stone cold sober.

So when the news came that the Atlantis Colonel, Samantha Carter, had been on the affected decks for a meeting regarding the Cylons, Adama knew Atlantis would throw extra resources at the situation. Previously, Adama had made inquiries about her. He knew she was highly prized by O'Neill. But there was something more. His information indicated a long association. But other people regarded her with awe for her brilliance as a scientist and courage as an officer. He would have been glad to have such an officer. Oh, sure, Adama figured O'Neill would help anyway. But, this put a real fire under the man's feet.

Even so, Adama was surprised to learn that O'Neill was coming in person. He shook his head at the notion of a commander leaving his post during a crisis to micro-manage a situation. The best course was to let subordinates do their jobs and only direct as needed from a central point on wider issues. Adama instructed that O'Neill should be brought to the bridge as soon as he landed. Keeping him out from underfoot could be accomplished diplomatically by hosting him in the CIC or in the Admiral's office.

What he didn't expect was why O'Neill really came. Once on board, O'Neill received the invitation to proceed to the bridge. He let the Admiral know this was not a social call. Instead, he asked Adama to meet him in Adama's office in private. Adama was annoyed to be taken from the bridge, yet he complied. Once the two commanders were in private and shook hands, Jack took the initiative.

"Bill, I know you are needed on the bridge, but this is urgent."

"I know. Colonel Carter is missing, presumed dead."

"It's more than that." Jack closed his eyes before making his purpose known. "Bill, I'm here to render medical assistance in a unique way."

"I didn't know you were a doctor."

"I'm not. But I do have an ability to heal which is unorthodox to say the least." Jack waited for Adama to nod. Then he withdrew the Goa'uld hand healing device and placed it on the desk. "This is an alien medical device. I can't guarantee good results. But the odds drastically improve for someone if I use it in time."

"And you are going to operate it? Why?"

"Because, I am the only one present who knows how to operate it."

"Explain."

"Bill, this instrument can heal internal injuries, broken bones…things like that, on the spot."

Adama swallowed considering the statement. It was a fantastic claim. But O'Neill's presence warranted caution.

"No why are you the only person who can use it?"

"Long story," Jack said evasively."

"How does it work?"

"I don't know. The science is beyond us."

"And you have done this before?"

"Yes."

"When you say improve the odds, what are we talking about?"

"Done in time, it can do the job. Sometimes normal medical science has to finish the job. I won't know before I begin."

Adama regarded him silently. If O'Neill really had such a thing and failed, the storm of protest would be unimaginable. If he succeeded, the religious frenzy would engulf the Fleet.

"Time is the key."

"Jack, you should know that there will be serious fallout no matter whether you are successful or not."

"Why?"

"Your people must have told you about the rumors going around about you."

Jack sighed heavily, "Your call, Bill."

"I'm not sure I can, Jack. The situation is nearly out of control."

"So what are you saying, Bill?"

"Jack," Adama sighed. "I am impressed that you would make this offer in person, risking yourself to help my people." Adama looked Jack in the eye. "You've put me in a difficult position."

"We do it in privately on someone your doctor can't help," Jack offered.

Adama thought it over and then made the call to the medics. Then he alerted the bridge he could not be interrupted. Tigh acknowledged.

"Follow me; we have someone who needs extra help."

Adama had the guards escort them to the emergency triage position on another deck. The wounded were on the floors and in the hallway. Already, Atlantis doctors and medics were unpacking supplies and setting up. Adama spoke to Dr. Cottle in quiet tones. The man seemed surprised but moved to a man on a stretcher. The patient had a bloody abdominal bandage. Cottle showed what was underneath to Adama, shaking his head to say it was fatal. Adama nodded. Jack motioned for a privacy screen. An Atlantis doctor came over to assist.

"Bill, there will be a very bright light."

"Get everyone out of here but yourself, Doctor."

"Admiral, I can't…"

"Do it, Doc."

"Okay, everyone listen up. We have to take a break for a few minutes. Go eat something, drink, go to the bathroom, and stay out until you are called back in."

The startled medical teams filed out, grumbling. Once the door was shut to the compartment, Doc Cottle pulled a drag on the cigarette stub perpetually dangling from his lips.

"Okay, what miracle drug are we going to test out on our people now?"

"Remember, Doc, you never saw any of this. Go ahead, Jack."

Jack walked over to the man on the gurney. He was unconscious. Jack fitted the device on his hand and raised it over the man's middle. Closing his eyes, he activated it. He winced as the information flooded into his mind. But he kept the power steady. Slowly he moved it up and down the man's torso. When it was done, Jack shut it off. He opened his eyes to get his bearings. The man appeared to be resting peacefully. Doc Cottle quickly went to take the man's readings and examine the wound. Pulling back the bandages, he looked up in shock.

"There is no sign of trauma! Nothing, not a mark!" Cottle stared at O'Neill and became frightened. "It's true," he whispered.

"Let me see," Adama pushed him away. Removing the rest of the bandages, Adama saw only fresh pink skin under the blood soaked bandages and the torn uniform. He looked up at Jack with tears in his eyes. Unabashedly, he wiped them away with his fist. Motioning for the next case, the Atlantis doctor, his medic, and Doc Cottle put forward the most acute injury.

One after another they worked through the couple dozen patients in the compartment. As Jack completed the task with each one, both Colonials examined the results with mixed awe and fear. Some of the patients became conscious, requiring Doc Cottle to settle them down. A few he simply injected with sedative so they would not remember events clearly. One who had a broken leg got up and walked away confused. He was told it was someone else's blood and that he was just knocked unconscious in the accident.

Jack finished with all but two when the call came from McKay. They had found Carter by the transporter location chip in her arm. She was trapped in a sealed compartment slowy running out of air. It was also inaccessible by any means other than Puddle Jumper from space. Jack gave the rescue a go ahead and went to work on the final two. Unfortunately, one man died waiting for Jack to finish the other. When Jack checked him, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Bill. There's nothing I can do for him."

Neither Adama nor Cottle could manage words. Their gratitude was in their eyes.

What they didn't realize was that repair crews restored power to the security cameras in the midst of Jack's efforts. Everyone on the Bridge and in Security watched in amazement. So did some people who had previously hacked into the security system. The feed went out to the Fleet once the hackers realized what was happening. Even President Roslin got the video when she dialed in to make her press statements.


	11. Chapter 11:Doing That Voodoo That You Do

**Galactica Exterior**

In a Puddle Jumper stationed outside the damaged hull of the Galactica, McKay and a pilot worked to extend the force field behind the PJ to cover the affected compartment dangling in space by a mere thread to the hull. Having done this procedure when McKay was stranded in a sunken Jumper, they knew how to proceed. McKay adjusted the cloak and force field energy to form a bubble extending outward from the PJ to the affected Galactica compartment. Once the bubble stabilized, the PJ could open its rear hatch so someone could EVA to the outside of the doomed compartment.

Since they were in the vacuum of space without gravity, it would be relatively simple to load the bodies on the PJ with just three people. It helped that Chief Tyrol was a husky man. He was still onboard to assist the Atlantis personnel. Not knowing if there would be sufficient air in the bubble or in the compartment, the pilot and the two medics donned EVA (space) suits just in case something went wrong.

McKay stayed to man the controls since he too had the ATA gene therapy necessary to operate the PJ. It helped that McKay had flown PJs many times. Still, he had to concentrate to maintain the craft in position and the force field at the correct strength in the designated direction.

"Okay, McKay, lower the hatch. We are taking a walk to the door lock," the Pilot ordered.

McKay sealed the passenger compartment so he would be in an airtight area. The team managed to open the hatch with some C4. Inside, the air was thick. Five bodies protruded under bulkhead pieces. The sixth was a blonde woman in GI BDUs. The medic went to her first. He nodded that she was still alive.

"McKay, we found the Colonel. However, it's bad. The medics secured her head in case of neck trauma. We are loading her in the AF quarantine unit to stabilize her. Three of the others are still alive. Two are dead."

The AF quarantine unit looked like a coffin with a window. Carter's head could be seen with the oxygen mask attached. In it she could be transported safely.

"Copy that," McKay answered. "McKay to Galactica bridge."

"Galactica actual, Tigh here Dr. McKay. What did you find?"

"Four out of six are alive with severe injuries. The air was nearly gone. We are loading them now."

"And Colonel Carter?"

"Alive, barely, but it's not good, she might not…" McKay choked.

"Doctor, General O'Neill is here healing people. He is performing miracles. Land in the Flight Deck where you left."

"What?" McKay looked at the others. "Did he take another Ancient download?" Everyone shrugged. Chief Tyrol looked at them without understanding. "McKay to General O'Neill."

"O'Neill."

"We found her but it's not good. You didn't happen to go Ancient when no one was looking, did you? Because we could use that healing voodoo thing you do."

Negative. I've worn out a hand healing doohickey… or maybe I'm just too tired. Landry is arranging the sarcophagus with the Jaffa. Get her back to Earth, ASAP!"

"Dr. McKay, you are clear to land in the Flight Deck." Tigh put a call through to Adama, letting him know. But in that time, McKay took the Jumper through the Gate to Atlantis and on to Earth.

* * *

**Galactia Interior**

Adama and Jack left the triage compartment with Doc Cottle to check through the other wounded unable to be moved from other compartments on different decks. As they proceed through the corridors, more and more people stared. Some made religious signs on themselves. A few were stony faced. More were afraid. But they gathered in the hallways in O'Neill's wake in an almost herd mentality.

The guards with Adama called for reinforcements on every level. The PA system blared commands for everyone to go back to work. Along the route, the crew left what they were doing to get a glimpse of O'Neill. At that time, Tigh sent the toughest Marines he had left to clear a path so O'Neill could get to the wounded in other locations. O'Neill was creeped out. People were trying to touch him, pulling his sleeve as he passed. They called out prayers and implications to him. Adama turned and growled at them to stop being idiots. This was only a new medical tool and to stop over reacting.

Adama called Tigh over the radio a guard had with him. Finally, Tigh had to shut down entire levels to manage the throngs or he would lose containment of the situation. Marines marched into every level breaking up gatherings standing around or praying. With a ruthlessness Tigh used on New Caprica, he regained control of the ship, arresting those who did not obey orders. His action made an impression. Finally Adama got on the PA system and gave them hell for the near mutiny.

He didn't know it was just the beginning.

* * *

**Arula: Roslin's office**

To reassure her people, President Roslin prepared a statement to let the people on the ships know that everything was being handled. The speech described the efforts being made with the assistance of the Atlantis base. To deliver that address, Richard Woolsey made good O'Neill's promise to facilitate contact between the two locations through the Stargate. Woolsey contacted Major Lorne at the Arula Stargate. Lorne opened the Gate and contacted the Beta Site. From there, Mitchell's communication team relayed her transmission to the Galactica and the Fleet. In the CIC, Tigh had no time to deal with her. She was the last person he needed on his neck as he tried to contain the chaos. The communications officer connected her to the Pegasus CIC. She asked the Pegasus communications officer to arrange her broadcast to the Fleet. He did.

While she was waiting for the connection to be established for wide broadcast, someone picked up the hackers' live feed from the Galactica's security cameras in the triage center. As O'Neill worked the wounded on the Galactica, everyone in Roslin's office watched transfixed. On the live feed, O'Neill could be seen and heard. Roslin and everyone else saw Dr. Cottle and the Admiral examine the wounds, showing O'Neill the extent of the injuries. Then they saw O'Neill stretching out his hand over the body. The General appeared to shoot a light out from his palm.

In real time, the wounds closed. People who had been moaning in pain bleeding to death sat up and walked away. Dr. Cottle with the help of the Atlantis doctor set broken limbs then stood back. O'Neill stretched forth his hand. Broken limbs that had dangled at odd angles minutes before, reformed whole again. Then O'Neill stretched forth his hand and the bones knitted together with the skin closing in minutes. That soldier stood up and walked without any evidence of pain or favoritism of the limb. Roslin heard Adama tell the man he had been stunned nothing more and it was another person's blood. The man walked away confused.

"Mr. Woolsey," Roslin choked not finding the words. "It's all true isn't it?"

"What is, ma'am?"

"O'Neill is an immortal."

"Hardly, Madame President," Woolsey answered with vehemence. "He's using a medical tool, that's all. The General is using an alien device which can help heal certain injuries, though not all. He can use it because…"

But she wasn't listening. No one in the office was. Everyone stared as O'Neill went to work on a man after Dr. Cottle removed a piece of bulkhead from the thigh. No one heard a word Woolsey said.

* * *

**On the Rising Star**

"Zarek is coming," a young man ran in breathlessly to the small living area where the computer hackers were handling the transmissions. They were hastily re-routing network connections and passing notes through the various servers to scramble their identities. Someone was trying to trace them, but they had to stay ahead of the search.

"They shut down the security cameras on those decks. We're blind."

"Okay, wrap it up and shut us down."

At that moment, Tom Zarek, Vice President of the Colonials stomped in. it was so crowded in the compartment, standing up was useless. Zarek shoved one fellow out of the way to get closer to the terminals.

"Re-run it from the beginning," he ordered. Once the recording restarted, the tech got up to give his seat to Zarek. At a few points Zarek had them re-run the segment to be sure he saw it or had them clear up the conversations.

Zarek's intelligent face clouded as he watched and listened. He was a clever man with keen political instincts. On those recordings, he saw a way to solidify his position as the power behind the throne, indefinitely. And that's where he had decided long ago was the place for the most power with the least accountability.

"Give me a copy of that and a player." He took both and sent a minion ahead to the flight deck to ready a Raptor Shuttle and a Marine escort. Losing no time, he made it down to the Beta Site Planet. Once there he had the picket dial Arula and stepped through. There ground transportation took him directly to the dig site. Exiting the vehicle, Zarek knew that as Vice President of the Colonies, he was entitled to inspect the site. By then Roslin's troops had arrived. They saluted and admitted him, joining the escort.

Since O'Neill had left Atlantis abruptly to help on the Galactica, Sheppard became the ranking officer on the base. As such he had to direct traffic at Atlantis for the rescue efforts. As luck would have it, delays impeded the Jumper crews leaving with medical teams for the Beta Site. Then he had to assemble the extra troops to the returning Jumpers and send them to secure the Arula positions. Sheppard worked as swiftly as possible to put in action plans to reinforce the Ancient Chair site and the Stargate. Then he coordinated with Major Lorne's team on Arula in case an evacuation of Atlantis personnel still there became necessary. Then he had to wait until Lorne arrived to relieve him as base commander. So, Sheppard was the last to arrive on Arula. Once there he proceeded to collect Dr. Jackson, per O'Neill's instructions.

Zarek got there first.

Sgt. Bates halted the Colonial delegation. He had been instructed by Major Lorne not to admit any Colonials to the underground facility. Zarek was not amused.

"Sergeant, are you forbidding the _**Vice President**_ of the Twelve Colonies access to an area on his own planet?" Zarek's chief of security asked in a surly threatening manner. Many of the other guards and retainers murmured in agitation.

"Sorry, I have my orders."

"Then call whatever lame assed excuse for a superior you have and get your orders changed. NOW!"

"Bates," he commed to Lt. Cadman. "We have company. The man says he's the Vice President. He's requesting permission to enter." Bates listened on his head set. "Sir, may I ask your name?"

"Zarek, Vice President Tom Zarek." Lt. Cadman heard as well. She directed Bates to contact Major Lorne who was the ranking officer on the planet.

"Yes, ma'am," Bates commed Major Lorne. "Sorry, ma'am," he said softly, "but Major Lorne went back to Atlantis to relieve Colonel Sheppard. It's your call."

"Dr. Jackson says, we have no choice. Let him in. I'm sending Captain Thrace to meet him."

"Sir, Captain Thrace is on her way to meet your party. You may proceed when she arrives, sir."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Zarek didn't need to throw his weight around to a nobody. He could afford to be professional. However, the Colonial guards made a point of shoving him with their shoulders as they passed to the dig entrance as an expression of their indignation. They weren't waiting at the gate.

Starbuck and Daniel climbed the stairs to the tomb's entrance. Daniel was not happy to be admitting more people.

"Please, make sure he doesn't touch, okay?"

"I think we all got that, Dr. Jackson. I said I was sorry. I'm not going to grovel."

"No one asked you to grovel. I just wish you would believe us when we tell you something. The Colonials all act as if we are some sort of bad guys. Well, it gets old."

"Jury is still out on that one, Dr. Jackson."

Reaching the top, Starbuck came to attention and saluted. She hated Zarek's guts on a personal level, but he was the legitimate Vice President.

"Captain Thrace, sir."

"Captain," Zarek saluted back. "Dr. Jackson, I'm here to see this device."

"Um, sir, I want to caution you not to touch anything. And please, the fewer people in here the safer." Daniel threw a meaningful look at the entourage.

"So I've heard." Zarek gestured to the guards to separate and two to follow him in. Daniel let him enter first. Starbuck took up the next position. The Security Chief left his second to secure the entrance and came up behind her.

Once down in the lowest chamber, Atlantis guards stood by the doorway. Lt. Cadman waited in the ante chamber. It was a little crowded, so two of the guards were asked to stand on the landing of the first flight of stairs.

"Captain Thrace, report."

Starbuck gave him an abbreviated version of events but included her mistake. Zarek nodded, walking to the Chair and around it examining it without touching it.

"Show me what you touched."

She walked to the wall with the inscription and pointed. Then she went to the chair and pointed. "And sir, I sat in it, so my body touched most of it."

"Thank you for your honesty, Captain. But for the record, show me exactly what you did." He gestured to the chair.

"Um, Mr. Vice President, as I have said, it's not a good idea to touch anything." Daniel moved between him, Starbuck, and the chair.

"Then, you tell me. How does it work?"

"We don't actually know how it works. But, she if she touches it again she could accidentally activate the controls again and launch more missiles."

"You don't know?" Zarek looked at the chair to examine it again. "I don't see any controls."

"That's just it. The controls are all over the chair. We aren't sure exactly where they all are. So, don't touch it. Let our scientists make that evaluation." Daniel folded his arms across his chest with a little hunch hoping the man would not insist.

"I understand that you have seen such a device before. Is that true?"

"Yes, we have. That's why we know not to touch it."

"Hmmm, and you didn't think to tell us about this thing."

"We just found it a few hours ago."

"And now the Fleet is elsewhere. The Galactica is out of commission. And the population is in an uproar."

"Well, by now, hasn't your media explained it was an accident?"

"Was it? Was it an accident, Dr. Jackson?"

"What are you saying that we made Captain Thrace launch missiles at the Fleet?"

"You've lured us here to this planet so you could fire upon us. That's what the people are saying out there. They are enraged, Dr. Jackson."

"Well, once Captain Thrace and the President explain, they'll understand. Or… don't you want them to understand?"

"I want you to understand how serious this matter is, Dr. Jackson." Zarek had his Security Chief bring the video player. "I want you to watch something everyone in the fleet just saw."

He played the recording of O'Neill operating the Goa'uld hand healing device. Jackson's reaction was telling. The man knew what was happening. But Starbuck's reaction was priceless. She was awed and confused. She had heard all the rumors and dismissed them. Standing here with Dr. Jackson for a few hours made her certain the rumors were ridiculous. But she understood that something profound had happened on the Galactica.

"So, how did the General do it?" Zarek demanded with deceptive calm.

"He used an alien medical device."

"And this device does what?"

"It heals people on a very limited basis."

"Limited, is that what you call it? I call it a godsdamned miracle." Zarek grinned his fox in the hen house grin. "I don't see any device. Tell me, how can such a small device heal a belly wound or a broken leg?"

"Well, it's complicated."

"And…?"

"Well, it's alien technology. We don't really know how it works."

"Just like you don't know how this thing," he pointed to the Chair, "works? Oh, come now Doctor. You must know something or how else could you know how to work it? I mean just look. General O'Neill certainly knows what he is doing with that device." Zarek peered at the picture again. "Which I still can't see. And why is the General of all people doing it? He's a general. That's what medics are for."

"Well, that's because Jack is the only one who can besides Colonel Carter." Daniel looked perplexed. "Where is Colonel Carter?"

Zarek paused. He knew that Daniel was good friends with both O'Neill and Carter. Frowning and lowering his voice, he answered regretfully.

"She's missing. I'm sorry. She was on the decks blown up by the missile." Zarek had the decency to be sorry. He had nothing against the woman. "We have rescue teams searching. No one has found the body yet."

Daniel felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. He turned away to control himself. He couldn't. After all these years, she couldn't die like this. A gasp escaped him. Maybe it was the stress over what happened that morning. Maybe it was the many threats made to him. Maybe it was the guilt that somehow he could have, should have somehow prevented this tragedy. But Daniel's emotions flowed over him. Anyone but Sam and he would have dealt with it. But it was Sam, after all these years, after all those missions and after all those near misses. The thought that he had terribly misjudged the situation was eating him alive.

"Dr. Jackson, I'm sure if we find the body General O'Neill can use this thing to revive her."

Daniel turned in his grief. "It doesn't work that way. If she's dead, then it can't help her. I told you. It's very limited." Daniel turned away again to compose himself. "Can you tell them to take her back to Atlantis as soon as they find her?"

"I'm sure General O'Neill will do that. He's still there… I'm sorry." Zarek assumed a more tactful approach. Daniel's grief was overwhelming him. "Doctor Jackson, you say it's limited. Then if it is limited is there something that is more un-limited that could help?"

Daniel sighed heavily, getting back control of himself. "Yes, but we don't have one."

"One what?"

Daniel shook his head. "It doesn't matter. If we do not find her very soon it will be too late anyway. She will have been dead too long."

"I don't understand. Is it… like this hand device, just more what, powerful?"

"Yes, same idea but it can raise the dead."

"Then you _have_ used it?"

"Yes, many, many times. But then you heard the stories. I know what they are saying."

Starbuck and Zarek paused. It was an admission they were afraid to hear.

"Because you were dead?"

"Yes or dying."

And General O'Neill, he's used it too?"

"Yes."

"Because he was…dead?"

"Yes."

"He died? You don't mean died as in clinically scientifically dead?"

"Yes. Pretty much…dead." Daniel stared upward. "He's been dead more times than anyone can imagine. But, he's here now." Daniel smiled ruefully through his grief. "There, now you know. It's what you wanted to know anyway."

Zarek swallowed hard. Starbuck was conflicted. It was on her face. She knew Jackson a bit now. He did not seem to be a man to exaggerate. Nevertheless, these claims were fantastic. She could not help asking.

"So what's it like to be …dead?"

"Um, different, it's not the same every time."

The other two had a strange look on their faces. The discussion was surreal.

"Different how?"

"Um, well, sometimes you knew you were dead. And sometimes you, well, you wouldn't understand."

Zarek coughed, looking very disconcerted. "And this other thing revived you each time?"

Sadness welled up in Daniel, but he was in better control. "For Jack yes."

"Something else worked for you?"

"Yeah."

"So it's true you ascended to a higher plane of existence," Starbuck asked reverently?

"Oh, you heard about that, too." Daniel coughed to cover his emotions. Starbuck and Zarek exchanged glances.

"Can't you help Colonel Carter ascend?"

"No, I can't, not anymore," Daniel said regretfully. "I'm here now. If I were there," he looked up, "then maybe I could. It depends. It's complicated."

"Do the other gods have to give you permission or something?"

"Or something," Daniel choked and coughed again.

Zarek looked at the chair with a little more respect.

"You've met them?" Starbuck asked in disbelief.

"Who?"

"The other gods."

"Um, I don't remember much about it when I come back." He sure as hell wasn't going to explain it better to these two. This last time he returned he did remember, not that they needed to know.

"When you come back?" Starbuck was starting to freak out. "How many times did you come back?"

"Couple of times, like I said, it's complicated.

"Has anyone else around here died and come back?"

"Besides Jack and me...? Colonel Carter and Teal'c and a few others, yeah."

"Is that why he can use this hand device?"

"No."

"What then?"

"You have to have something in your blood to activate it. Trust me, you don't want it."

"Why not?"

"You don't that's all." Daniel looked at the ceiling so they wouldn't see his frustration and grief.

"So, does Starbuck have it? Is that how she used this weapon?"

"No." He coughed again.

"So you do know how this thing works."

"No, how to use it. The science is beyond us." Daniel paused becoming overwhelmed with grief again.

"Can you do it?"

"No, but Jack can."

"It sounds like General O'Neill is a very special man …and Colonel Carter, too. I'm sorry, really. I mean that." Zarek did sound sorry. Starbuck shot him a quick look, not believing she heard him tell the truth. But he looked sorry. "Then Captain Thrace can too apparently?"

"Apparently," Daniel got his control back and turned to Zarek.

"Why are you people doing all this? That is what no one can understand. There has to be more to this if you have powers only the gods have. What could we possibly have that you want?"

"Look, we are trying to help. What's so hard to understand about that? Jack went to help your people because he's a good man. It was the right thing to do."

"Oh we're grateful. We just don't know for what. Are we supposed to be grateful you destroyed one of our capital ships or because you started riots all over the Fleet or because our people are dead because of these devices? Or because we are supposedly living with the gods themselves?"

"What?" Daniel got confused by the switch in attitude.

"What I want Dr. Jackson is for you to tell me exactly how this works."

"I think you need to talk to Jack. I'm done." Calling the guards, Daniel had them escorted out.

Once outside, Zarek called Starbuck over.

"Captain, we just learned a big secret."

"Everyone knows about the resurrections, sir."

"No, Starbuck. We learned that you can activate that weapon." He raised his eyebrows to her to wait for her to get it. She thought about it and gave a short nod.

"Yes, sir."

"I want you here. Don't leave. I'm going back to the Galactica to talk this over with the Admiral. I want you prepared to sit in it again."

"But…"

"Captain, I thought you were a great card player. In Triad you if you don't have full colors, you had better bluff big and raise the stakes."

"That depends on what's in the pot to win, sir."

Zarek leaned into whisper, "You don't know? And here I thought you were smart not just a smart ass." He shook his head and turned to leave.

"I get it, Mr. Zarek."

"Good."

&&&&&&&&


	12. Chapter 12: Of Gods And Men

**Chapter 12: Of Gods and Men**

**Galactica Flight Deck**

Cally Tyrol watched with deep apprehension as the Raptor landed in the bay. The doors of the Raptor opened to reveal Vice President Tom Zarek. Cally also knew Zarek to be a Sagittaron. Because of Sagittaron beliefs, other colonists persecuted Sagittaron. Among other odd notions, they did not believe in medicine. They believed that the mind and body are myths, and that medicine is "an abomination, a sin against the Gods." As far as they were concerned, O'Neill demonstrated once and for all to Doc Cottle that medicine had nothing to do with curing the sick.

As outrageous as most found Sagittaron ideology, Zarek was a legitimate representative of all the Colonies and had been the representative from Sagittaron. Throughout the Fleet, feelings toward him had changed after New Caprica. Resigning as Baltar's Vice President, Zarek refused to cooperate with the Cylons, earning him a place at the execution pit with Roslin and Cally. Cally prayed Roslin really did send him to appease O'Neill. Closing her eyes, she prayed for it all to stop, repenting, and promising to obey the gods living among them.

She was not the only one.

* * *

**News broadcast to the Fleet**

Two newscasters on one of the broadcast channels took calls from the viewers in the many ships now orbiting the Beta Site. Reports of the day's disaster streamed into the news bureau. Everyone who could had on some sort of audio or visual feed of the news despite attempts to shut down communications.

"The whole day is beyond understanding," intoned the lead Anchor, Al Barker. "We know that some people saw a missile eject from the new planet's surface. Others witnessed the thing collide from view ports on various ships. The captain of the Astral Queen confirms damage to the port side of the Galactica where the water tanks and generators were on the decks now gaping into the void of space."

"We have a caller. You're on."

"Um, hello, I'm a Colonial Mover pilot and I saw the so-called missile."

"Ma'am, can you tell us exactly what you saw?"

"It was like no missile I've ever seen. It was more like a hurtling lightening bolt. It crashed through the decks as if they were paper. The speed made no sense. It was faster than any missile I ever saw."

"Thank you," Barker said in his worried reporter's tone. "Next caller."

"Hi, I'm on the Rising Star. So, I was talking to my daughter down on Arula. Stupid name for a planet if you ask me," she huffed, digressing.

"What did she tell you?"

"She works the communication center there. When it happened she forgot to hang up on me, so I heard them giving directions to the Raptors in transit."

"No kidding," he said excitedly. "You heard the chatter?"

"Sure did," she said indignantly. "Raptors saw it come at unbelievable speed. And it glowed!"

"Glowed?"

"Glowed. I could hear them calling it a ball of fire with a tail."

"Thank you, ma'am," he disconnected with some disbelief in his voice. "You're on the air."

"Hi um, I saw it too. I was looking out the window on the Rising Star, too on deck 6. That's what it looked like, a ball of fire with a tail. Oh, and someone said they heard the pilots say it came from Dr. Jackson's location."

"Now, how would they know it was Dr. Jackson's location?"

"Dradis I guess," she answered, insulted.

"No, I mean how would they know Dr. Jackson was at the location?"

"Because Vice President Zarek had ordered a Raptor to take him down there for a meeting at those coordinates with Dr. Jackson," she finished breathlessly. "See, Dr. Jackson has been doing something down there and Zarek wanted to know what."

"I see, that would explain it." He disconnected for the next caller.

"Is it true that Dr. Jackson is a really Pollux?"

"Doubtful. Next caller."

"I heard that Dr. Jackson is really a god. That he is angry with us. That's why he threw a thunderbolt at us."

"Unfounded rumor. Next caller."

"Well, I heard he had died and was reborn several times. How do you explain that?"

"I can't. Next caller."

"It's not a rumor. I was working on laying some pipe at the water works last week. The foreman told us at lunch that he asked one of the Earthers about it point blank. It's true. The man didn't deny it at all. Said that Dr. Jackson ascended to be with the gods themselves."

"Don't you think that's a little farfetched?"

"Hey, I'm from Geminon. Are you saying Pollux does not pass between life and afterlife to intercede for us with the gods? You blasphemer…"

"Next caller a little more rational please." He shook his head. "You're on the air."

"How do you explain how General O'Neill could heal people just by touch?"

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation. As soon as the emergency has passed, all this will be explained somehow." He paused. "This just in," he read from a paper handed to him on camera. "President Roslin has prepared a statement. Because of the current conditions, we have been asked to read it and let you know she will address the Fleet this evening."

"Greetings to all. The Fleet is now at a safety point we designated in the event of an emergency. I want to state categorically this was not an attack but an accident."

"On my authorization, we uncovered an important site left behind by the previous inhabitants of this world we call Arula. As you know, the scourge of this galaxy, the Wraith, wiped them all out. Our experts worked with Earth scholars to learn if something at that site might be of benefit to our two peoples. Unfortunately, one of our officers accidentally touched a hidden switch that launched a planetary defense weapon left behind by the Arulans. That's all it was, an accident."

"Our thoughts and prayers are with the brave men and women on the Galactica who are working to save the ship. We regret deeply the loss of life that has happened. I want to assure everyone that General O'Neill dispatched help instantly. Now, with the help of our friends, our loved ones are receiving medical care. The General has put all their resources at our disposal."

"We have survived much worse. We shall survive this too. I urge you to remain calm and let us manage this situation. Gods bless you all."

Nevertheless, by then, news spread through the ranks that the gods were angered past patience. In this Cycle of Time, the stories about O'Neill and Jackson perfectly fit the stories of Castor and Pollux, the Gemini Twins. Both had died and resurrected multiple times. Jackson, as Pollux a half-god, had ascended to Mt. Olympus becoming a full god but had returned many times to share his divinity with his cosmic fraternal twin, the originally mortal O'Neill. Interceding with the gods on a regular basis on matters of life and death, the two were alternately alive and dead, just as the legend proclaimed.

This demonstration first by Dr. Jackson and then General O'Neill proved their divinity conclusively. Whispers then loud voices argued that previous threats and insults to Dr. Jackson's holy person angered the god. They believed this morning's direct disobedience so enraged Jackson that he sent the thunderbolt to punish the Colonists. Some said he threw more than one bolt of celestial lightening at them. Worse, no one knew if he had been appeased.

To make the Admiral obey the gods' wills, O'Neill, really being Castor the warrior, arrived on the ship struck down by Pollux. Unexpectedly, O'Neill showed mercy. In an awesome demonstration of his godhood, General O'Neill proved conclusively that he had direct power of life and death. By stretching forth his hand, O'Neill healed the dead and dying right in front of Admiral Adama and Doc Cottle.

O'Neill added to the terror by using the Stargates to show his might to everyone en masse simultaneously across the galaxy. Arula was 322 light years away. People that far away witnessed the healing miracles in real time. Stargates themselves unnerved many of the Colonists. No one had ever heard of such a thing. Truly, they were the work of the gods. That O'Neill taught them to use the Stargates was even more proof of his divine power.

Other rumors said the Admiral knew the gods were testing them. Yet, neither the Admiral nor the President had ever said that the gods would punish the people in so direct a manner. Even Cassandra, the High Priestess, was surprised and stricken. Rumors swept the Fleet that she had a fit after witnessing O'Neill's miracles. News from the Temple on the Galactica said she was still unconscious. More proof that Castor and Pollux had been offended.

Zarek knew the situation. He was still trying to figure out how to maximize the opportunity for himself. Striding across the landing bay, he projected an aura of command and assurance. Cally watched him hoping he really knew what he was doing.

* * *

**Puddle Jumper en route to Chulak**

"I don't understand," Chief Tyrol said quietly to McKay who was standing outside the craft waiting for something. "Where are we?"

Smirking with mischief, McKay answered, "the Elysian Fields. We are waiting for a delegation to meet us."

"Yes, but what good is it? They're all dead now."

"Don't you want your friends to get better," McKay said sarcastically? More seriously, he added, "I'm going to see to it Colonel Carter doesn't die, permanently."

"The doctor pronounced her dead not five minutes ago. I checked her, too, no pulse."

"It's only been a few minutes. That's all." McKay turned his attention to the movement coming over the hill. "Whatever you do, keep your mouth shut. Got it?"

"Why?"

"Because they'll kill you," McKay pointed to the troop of Jaffa closing in on their position.

"Who are they?"

"Help." Muttering to himself, he added, "I hope."

The troop pointed weapons at the Jumper crew. From behind came a more important looking Jaffa. He scanned them with contempt. McKay's usual bravado evaporated under the steady gaze of the leader.

"You will disarm."

"We already did." McKay whined at him. "We followed instructions. Look, time is a factor here."

The leader went up to him to intimidate McKay. McKay stood his ground though with some amount of trepidation. The Jaffa towered over him.

"Kree hashak! Do not presume to lecture me, human."

"Right, well it wasn't so much as a lecture as a reminder, a way to apprise you of our situation…"

"You will carry your dead. Do not expect us to do it for you." He signaled to the troop to surround them and form up. Two more searched the Jumper party. Nodding the all clear, they marched off without another word.

McKay picked up Carter in his arms and hefted her to begin the trek. The others carried their dead as best they could. Tyrol did not know what to make of it. He had been on the PJ to supervise the rescue efforts and retrieve the dead and injured. In the rush to get to Earth, McKay did not stop to drop him off anywhere. Once at Atlantis, they departed immediately. At the SGC, they launched immediately for this place. He looked all around thinking it was just a big field next to a forest. Sweating, each man did his best. The smallest medic simply dragged one corpse by the legs too weak to carry the load. Fortunately, the trek was over grass and dirt. The distance was short enough to the forest. The trail led to a cave.

At the entrance to the cave opening, the group halted. Emerging from the darkness, a hooded robed figure emerged, flanked by several more even larger Jaffa in warrior armor. Pushing back the hood, he surveyed the humans.

"Come, time is short and so is the High Council's patience."

"Oh, Bra'tac, you gave me a heart attack, there for a second," McKay sighed with relief. "Your welcome wagon really sucks, you know." He hefted Carter again. Bra'tac signaled his escort to take her. Wordlessly, he looked at her face with great sorrow.

"For anyone less, they would not have agreed, come."

Tyrol looked at the old man with the gold tattoo on his forehead, wondering what it all could mean. Shifting his burden up again, he followed. Deeper into the twisting passageways, they traversed the torch lit labyrinth to the room with a ring transporter. Bra'tac positioned everyone to descend in two groups. Activating the armband, rings popped up around the group sending them deep below the upper levels of the cave. They arrived in a room with the Sarcophagus. In the center, Teal'c stood with his honor guard.

"How long?" Teal'c addressed McKay.

"Not long, maybe twenty minutes."

Teal'c nodded to place her inside the machine. His face was a mask of stone, staring into space as the lid closed. The others put their burdens down and sat to rest. A guard came over kicking them to their feet. Tyrol looked to McKay with a question on his face. McKay backed up to whisper to the man.

"Who are they? Is this the underworld?"

"You are in a very important place with um, extremely irritable important people who can kill you just for looking at them the wrong way. Now shut it."

"Kree! Silence, Tau'ri or you can use it too." A large Jaffa leveled a staff weapon at him. McKay blanched holding up his hands in surrender. Teal'c shot him a deadly glance and resumed his stare into space.

The hum of the machine continued for some time. Then the doors of the lid separated revealing the occupant. Teal'c moved to be the first person Carter would see as she revived. A strong gasp announced her reanimation. Gently, Teal'c helped her sit up. Her head swiveled in alarm to focus on his face. She relaxed then saw the sarcophagus. Her eyes widened.

"Teal'c! Oh wow, the last thing I remember was the explosion and lots of dust."

She let him give her a hand up. They embraced. Then Bra'tac received his embrace. The joy on his face was unmistakable. The guards dumped the next body into it. The machine began the cycle again. Looking back at it, Carter asked Teal'c, "so was I dead?"

"Indeed."

"Indeed," she grinned cocking an eyebrow at him. "Right, thanks."

"You are welcome," he bowed slightly.

"Well I got you here," McKay felt left out.

"McKay?"

"Yes, well if I hadn't made a heroic rescue to you know, get you here so quickly, you know, you might…" He stumbled over his words finishing rapidly with, "General O'Neill ordered be to come straight here."

He was surprised by the big hug and with a small hesitation; Carter gave him a peck on the cheek, knowing that is what he really wanted. Delighted and surprised, McKay glowed then preened.

"You're all right, McKay." She smiled at him. "So, what's going on?"

Chief Tyrol fell to his knees in awe. It was all true. O'Neill was a god who ordered his servant's return from the dead. Even the Lords of the Underworld obeyed him to do it.

* * *

**Galactica Flight Deck**

Tom Zarek approached the Admiral's party standing near the doors to the Landing Bay. He could see a flash of silver hair on a tall figure. He hurried past his own guards to get to the group. What an opportunity! The Admiral caught sight of him on the approach.

"Jack, we are about to have company."

Jack followed Adama's gaze. He knew who Zarek was and had been.

"Now what, Bill?"

"Now, trouble."

"Oy," Jack sighed. This whole day had been surreal. "I swear if he wants me to bless him, I'm not responsible."

"Admiral, General O'Neill," Zarek stuck his hand out to O'Neill. Cautiously, O'Neill took it. Flash cameras went off, temporarily blinding the subjects. It was to be expected. Someone approached with a news camera, already filming. Zarek positioned himself between the Admiral and the General with a contrived look of concern.

"Sorry, can't stay, Mr. Zarek, my flight is about to depart." O'Neill tried to disengage and leave. No such luck, Zarek almost blocked him, looking up at the tall warrior.

"General, I want to extend to you the thanks of the Twelve Colonies for your generous and immediate assistance in our hour of need."

"You're welcome, now if you would…"

"I would like to express our gratitude for the extraordinary efforts you yourself have made on behalf of our people."

"Yes, my pleasure. Now I really must be going."

"The Quorum wants to extend our most sincere regrets for the loss of Colonel Carter."

"We haven't lost her."

"But, I heard that she was among the dead retrieved by one of your ships. Thank you for the assistance of the brave pilot who did go out there to try to rescue our people and yours."

"Like I said, rumors of her death are premature. Thank the Quorum for their good wishes. Sincerely thank them for me." Jack patted the man on the shoulder to move him gently aside to escape. He caught Adama's eye. Adama stepped up to intervene.

"Mr. Vice President, the General is very tired and must return to Atlantis. I think we can get on with business from this point by ourselves."

"I disagree, Admiral. We can't do anything without the support of our new allies."

"Oh? What does that mean," O'Neill asked with deceptive calm. Inside he was boiling. The entire freaking religious incident had him creeped out.

Zarek tried to disarm them with a bright chuckle. "Of course I meant no disrespect rather the opposite. We are becoming closer every day, isn't that right, General O'Neill?"

Jack shrugged and cocked his head waiting for the rest. He wasn't going to comment. It was a land mine. Turning to Adama, O'Neill nodded and said, "See you tomorrow, Bill."

"Sure, Jack."

"Well, if you are having a meeting, I would like to sit in as the Vice President to represent the Quorum of course."

"It's not that kind of meeting, Mr. Zarek. It's just about supplies and patrols. Routine stuff, boring really."

"I'm sure I would find it fascinating to know what is being planned for our defense."

"We'll let you know what we came up with by plain text message afterwards. Good-bye Mr. Zarek."

O'Neill nodded to both and strode off. Adama ever the politician shook his head knowing that Zarek had an agenda. Even so, he was surprised when Zarek looked at him and asked him to move away from listeners.

"Admiral, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye," Zarek waited for an acknowledgement and didn't get more than a stony look. "But this time, I'm in possession of certain knowledge that impacts the safety of the Fleet. You need to know. Is there a place where we can talk?"

All the while, the cameras were still rolling broadcasting the Vice President consulting with the powers that be. He rose in the estimation of those viewers who saw a man who was friendly with the Divinity and plugged into the Admiral. Which was what Zarek wanted in the first place, to be seen as a power broker at the highest levels.

* * *

**Arula: Dig Site**

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard expertly piloted his Jumper through the Stargate from Atlantis to pick up Dr. Jackson as General O'Neill ordered. As he swept over the city out towards the waterworks, he saw an exodus of people also headed that direction. Arriving at the site, he hovered looking for a place to land.

"Sheppard to Lt. Cadman, I've come for the package. Clear a landing area."

"Negative, Colonel. The crowds won't budge. They're having a religious service."

"A religious service, why?"

"It's to pray to Dr. Jackson."

"Say again?"

"They are praying to Dr. Jackson."

"Oh why didn't you say so? What do they want from him?"

"Not sure, but some Colonist just sacrificed a big bird on a makeshift altar."

"Is Jackson in any danger?"

"I have him inside the Tomb, sir, but we are outnumbered."

"What about their troops?"

"They are participating in the ritual."

"Oh great, okay, Lieutenant, hold your position."

Sheppard activated his Tok'ra communicator to reach Woolsey. He hoped the man was still with President Roslin.

"Sheppard to Mr. Woolsey, come in please."

It took a moment while the IOA representative searched his pants for the small device. Smiling awkwardly at the President's assistant he sidled out to the hallway for some quiet.

"Woolsey, thank god you are here. You have to get me out of this place."

"What the heck's going on, Mr. Woolsey?"

"It's gotten out of control. They aren't listening to me any more since the broadcast."

"What broadcast?"

Speaking in hushed rapid tones of concern, the balding middle-aged man quickly briefed Sheppard. Looking around furtively, he moved down the hallway for some privacy. Everyone was staring at him. Woolsey didn't like how they were staring at him.

"And frankly, I don't know what they'll do now. You have to get us out of here, now."

"Can you get to the roof? I can pick you up there."

"When?"

"After I get Jackson, I'll call you. Sheppard out."


	13. Chapter 13: Disbelief

**Disbelief:**

**

* * *

**

**Arula Dig Site:**

The crowds grew as the city emptied to make a pilgrimage to the waterworks. Word spread rapidly that Dr. Jackson was there. Some went to gawk. Some went to get answers. Some went in a religious fervor to show the god that they were sorry. Some went for personal reasons. The mood ranged from fanatical devotion to anger.

In the Colonial religion, the gods were the same as the ancient Greek and Roman deities, described on Earth in myths. To the Colonial's, they were very real and were capricious and vindictive. In this Cycle of Time, they held Jackson to be Pollux and O'Neill to be Castor. According to the doctrine of the Cycle, everything had happened and would happen again in varying iterations. Each person played his part in the drama. For this cycle, the gods sent the Gemini Twins to stop the exodus from the Twelve Colonies and to prevent them from reaching Earth. No one knew what it would take to convince the gods to let them pass. The sacred scrolls pre-ordained rituals and prayers to appease and influence the unknowable. For at any moment in time, the cycle was open to interpretation. Of course, the priests transmitted the interpretations to the populace at large. Not knowing what else to do, the Geminon priest began to propitiate the gods, hoping to influence a good outcome. A large stone altar stood at the entrance to the archaeology site. The priest held aloft a big bird for the blood sacrifice to the god, Pollux. The Geminons in the populace became unreasonable with anyone who dissented.

Atlantis personnel watched a blood sacrifice for the first time in their lives with a mix of fascination, horror, disgust, and their own religious impediments. For most of them, the Judeo-Christian Bible included accounts of such sacrifices. However, their religion practiced no such rituals for nearly two millennia. Those in the troop compliment of other religions also did not practice animal sacrifices either for hundreds if not thousands of years. Most gave charity to the poor in various forms as a 'sacrifice', but did not slaughter animals for their blood. Increasingly, they were disturbed. However, strict orders not to interfere prevented action.

Lt. Laura Cadman saw Sgt. Bates become increasingly agitated. She knew what was going through his mind. It was going through all their minds. No one could be comfortable watching the display. So she used her radio to remind him to hold his position and stay alert. Across the yard, she could see that look of his. What she didn't see was how the Colonial's saw it too. All she knew was that the crowd was getting ugly. The crowd's animosity towards Bates increased. Anticipating a problem, Lt. Cadman decided to relieve him.

"Sgt. Bates, you will take a position inside and guard Dr. Jackson. Send out the Corporal to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

He moved to cross to the Tomb entrance and relieve the Corporal. At that moment, Sheppard arrived in a cloaked PJ. The wind from the displacement of air startled the assembly. The priest stopped in mid-swing before decapitating another bird. The rush of the air put out the flame on the altar. People started shrieking in terror. The onlookers decided that the gods had rejected the sacrifice. In panic, they decided the birds were not adequate. Something more had to be offered.

Bates was having a bad day.

In one movement, the crowd surged and laid hands on the unlucky sergeant. Someone knocked him out. The rest dragged him off towards the altar. The crowd surrounded the altar so deep that Lt. Cadman's troops could not break through.

"All units, use the zats to retrieve Bates. Remember, General O'Neill said not to kill anyone. Unit commanders respond to confirm." She listened as they called in acknowledgment. "Fire."

The battle began in earnest. From the Puddle Jumper, Sheppard decided he had no way to land. To scatter the crowd, he fired over their heads in short energy bursts. The panic turned to hysteria as blasts from nowhere hit the ground showering dirt with concussive pulses. Many believed that the gods were at it again.

"Lieutenant, I am going to land near the entrance. Keep the perimeter open until we can retreat. I'm going in for Jackson. Form up to defend the Chair."

"Yes sir," Cadman replied ordering her men to form up to let the PJ land while holding off the mob.

"Jackson, this is Sheppard. Get out here and bring the ZPM. I don't want these idiots to launch more drones."

"I think I can do more good by trying to talk to them," Daniel argued on his way to the entrance. "If they see me, they may calm down."

"Negative, General O'Neill ordered me to extract you. And that's what I'm going to do if I have to shoot you myself. Now bring the damn ZPM."

"Coming."

"Cadman, I'm aiming to send them to off to the woods. After Jackson gets in, you and your troops stage a retreat all together on the next Jumper run. Get everyone away from the entrance. I'm going to seal it up."

Cadman understood and barked her commands. Zatting everything in 60 ft, they pushed back a perimeter as blasts from the PJ scattered the mob. Some of the Colonial guards were on both sides of melee. So Cadman stunned them not able to distinguish, figuring it would all get sorted out later. Once Jackson made it into the Jumper, Sheppard took aim and blasted the tomb's entrance away, collapsing the supports and sealing the underground chambers. He stayed long enough to support the three PJ's on the way from the Gate to pick up the Atlantis troops for a strategic withdrawal.

"Woolsey, have you made it to the roof, yet?"

"No, I won't be able to make it. I have been 'invited' to stay." He looked around at the guards pointing weapons and the furious eyes President Roslin blazing straight at him.

"Give her the communicator."

"I'm here, Colonel Sheppard." Roslin kept her eyes on Woolsey. "What is the situation?"

"Your people tried for a human sacrifice using Sergeant Bates. I can't allow that. Now, I'm removing Dr. Jackson and withdrawing our troops. Oh and don't bother to send yours in to the Tomb. I sealed it up just dandy."

"Let me talk to Captain Thrace."

"She's not here."

"We can't reach her. Where is she?"

Sheppard looked at Jackson who had the look of horror on his face that answered that question.

"She's guarding the Tomb… from the inside."

Woolsey's face said it all. He knew the political situation just escalated. For now, he was stuck with some very angry aliens.

* * *

**Atlantis**

In the Control Room, Major General Jack O'Neill received a status report from Major Lorne. Jack listened intently to the list of egregious events. In his opinion, the only thing to do with the Colonials was to pull out until Adama could settle matters. President Roslin had guaranteed Woolsey's safety, not that he believed she could. Things had gone too far.

"Okay, make sure that a Jumper is cloaked and ready by the President's office. Woolsey has a locator chip. He knows that the Daedalus is on its way. He has to hang on until then. Oh, and I want Daniel back here now. Tell Sheppard. Then I want you to get some chow and some sleep. You'll be pulling double shifts until this is over."

"Yes, sir."

Jack loped off to get some food and a shower. The Galactica was a mess. The sights and smells had him craving a thorough cleaning. While in the shower soaping down, he heard the chiming of his door. Wet and soapy, he decided to ignore it. Five more minutes would not change anything at this point, but the chiming became banging. Turning off the faucet, Jack wiped his eyes and grabbed a towel.

"WHAT!" Grumbling, he padded to the door. Without opening it, he repeated a gruff, "WHAT?"

"Sir, we received word that the Daedalus has arrived. Colonel Caldwell wants your orders."

"He can wait. Anything else?"

"Sir, Colonel Carter is waiting to speak with you from Stargate Command."

"Send it through here."

Jack continued to dry off, grabbing a robe. The communications system allowed him to receive calls in his living quarters both audio and visual. Modestly, he was careful to cover up. Sitting down at the desk in his suite, he sighed before turning it on.

"Yes, Carter?"

"Thank you, sir."

"For what?"

"A new lease on life," she said with a puckish grin.

"Oh, that, well, you know."

"About that, General Landry says that the Jaffa High Council is demanding a representative on Atlantis and that we share information if we want to keep using the sarcophagus. He's still there negotiating. Bra'tac says hello."

"Good, you saw him, then. When are you returning?"

"That's what I want to talk about. Sir, McKay came so quickly that he brought along some Colonials who were assisting in the rescue. Chief Tyrol saw it all. We also revived three Colonials. The fourth couldn't rise. It was too long. The problem is that Chief Tyrol is seriously freaked out. The other three are not doing well with this either. I recommend that we keep them here for a few days."

"Negative, Colonel. Send them back, immediately. We are instituting quarantine with everyone but Adama and Roslin until things cool down. Only Woolsey or I will talk to them."

"May I ask what happened?"

"They went nuts," he sighed rubbing the hairs at the nape of his neck. "They tried to offer a human sacrifice to Daniel."

"What?"

"They were going to kill Sgt. Bates because the fire went out under a bird they were going to offer up."

"I don't understand."

"They think Daniel and I are the gods, Castor Oil and Pollywantsacracker." Jack frowned. "So they decided to appease us with a sacrifice."

"Gross, sir." She did look revolted. "And they picked Bates?" She did not have a good opinion of Bates.

"So, I told Adama we weren't going to play with them any more until things settled down. That's when they took Woolsey hostage."

"Oh my god!"

"Yes, what did you want," he smirked? "Hey I'm a god, remember?"

"If you say so, sir," she looked perplexed. "I wasn't going to tell you but you should know that the Colonials here are praying to you now. They think the Jaffa were the 'Lords of the Elysian Fields. They think Chulak is Hades."

"It is. What's your point?"

"Yes, sir, my point is that they will come back and tell the rest that you ordered the Lords of the Underworld to give me back. That's why the others got a round trip as well. Return them and you will throw gasoline on the fire."

"Oy," he rumbled. "Okay, thanks for the heads up. Just send them back, Colonel. We'll handle it from here."

"Yes, sir, I'm on my way. Carter, out," she cut the transmission. "Send the Colonials to the Gate room for departure now, Chief."

"Yes, ma'am,"

Walter sent an airman to call the guards to escort the four men to the Stargate. A few minutes later, everyone assembled without the Puddle Jumper, which went to pick up General Landry. As an older man, he was not accustomed to walking to the Stargate over the long distance from the city to the Stargate. It helped to reinforce his importance to the Jaffa as well.

Once there, Chief Tyrol seemed uneasy in Carter's presence. She directed the supplies to be sent with them by M.A.L.P. and hand trolleys. Then she signed the requisition papers before turning to Tyrol.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am, I uh, was wondering where the Puddle Jumper was?"

"It's still in Chulak. We'll walk."

"Walk?" His eyebrows tried to crawl off his face.

"General O'Neill wants us back immediately. We can't wait."

"But I thought we needed the Jumper."

"Sometimes we do, especially if we are carrying supplies. But this time, General O'Neill said to walk."

For a perverse reason, she enjoyed the look on his face. Over the years, Sam had toughened up and developed a sense of humor more like O'Neill's. Tyrol swallowed hard, looking at the shimmering pool of standing water.

"Oh, be sure to exhale when you go in. Your instinct is to breathe in when you exit, so don't hold it. Trust me."

"Exhale? But we are going into the water."

"Not exactly, just exhale, you don't want to keep General O'Neill waiting do you?"

The look on the man's face was priceless. Smirking to herself, she walked up the ramp without stopping to pause. The other SG troops herded the Colonials in despite the hesitations. Some had never been through a Stargate except by Jumper. One had to be frog marched through. On the other side, they marveled how quickly they arrived. Normally, they came through the McKay-Carter Gate String between the two Galaxies. Taking a single step through the event horizon, they arrived on Atlantis, dry.

Waiting for them was Lt. Anastasia Dualla, the Colonial Liaison Representative. She was not looking forward to debriefing them. General O'Neill had made it clear to her directly. Make them understand this whole religious thing was a load of crap. She would obey and do her best for the Divinity.

* * *

**Galactica**: 

Tom Zarek pulled Admiral Adama aside and whispered some startling information.

"What do you plan to do with this information, Mr. Zarek?"

"I'm not sure, Admiral, but every bit of information we glean only strengthens our position."

"Come with me," Adama said softly, leading the way to a Raptor cockpit. Making sure no one could hear or see them; Adama laid it out for Zarek.

"Mr. Zarek, think of it this way. We are getting everything we want, except passage to Earth immediately. Everything, Mr. Zarek, means everything, food, medicine, technical assistance, repairs, materials, protection, housing, and a planet. What more do you want?"

"We are paying for these things, Admiral."

"Yes, we are. You have a problem with it?"

"I have a problem with other people dictating to us."

"Reverse the position, Mr. Zarek. Wouldn't you want to have a large say in what transpires?"

"Yes, I would. I also know that there is something much more important that they are concealing. We should be on our guard. I am certain they are playing us."

"And even if they are, what more can we ask of them right now? Remember we need everything they are offering. Without them, we are finished. Piss them off and we are finished. Which part of cooperate until we are able to sustain ourselves is not understandable?"

"With all respect Admiral," Zarek said firmly. "I don't think you see what I see."

"And what is that?" Adama said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was running out of patience.

"They are hiding something so terrible, that we can not afford to trust them."

"Mr. Zarek, we can't afford to anger them. There's a difference."

"Don't tell me you think O'Neill is a god, too?"

"Give me some credit. Jack O'Neill is a decent man, not a god."

"So how did he do it, heal those people?"

"He had a device he said was an alien medical tool."

"I didn't see any tool, just light shooting out from his hand," Zarek held out his hand to mimic the gesture.

"It fit around his hand and under his palm, about so big," Adama motioned the size. "He didn't have to do it, Mr. Zarek. He could have kept quiet."

"See, that's just it," Zarek paused for the kill. "He could have but he didn't. He knows how the people view Dr. Jackson and himself. So, why would he do something to incite the populace or make himself appear to be godlike to you?"

"We thought the cameras were off," Adama huffed. "Jack explained it to me in my office privately and made sure I understood it was just a tool. I even handled it. He offered the help but I gave him the permission."

"Did you use it?"

"No, I don't know how."

"Well, that's something, at least. I'm still certain that there is way more to all this than meets the eye. Listen, I have Starbuck stationed at the chair ready to force their hand. I think we should, Admiral."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think they are trying to keep us out of Atlantis because I think the gateway to Earth is there. There are 40,000 of us in many ships compared with a few hundred of them and a couple of Raptor-class ships. We don't have to take orders from them, not when that missile system is in our hands. We have a stronger position than the Quorum realizes for many reasons."

"You forget they have ships so big that they towed the ENTIRE fleet to Atlantis in a few moments. You forget that they can make themselves invisible." Adama got in Zarek's face. "I have a meeting with O'Neill tomorrow for some explanations. You do anything to jeopardize it and I will arrest you."

"Just don't take too long getting the answers, Admiral. Not everyone is willing to wait two years…or more." He smiled a predatory smile. "After today, I think that policy is out the window."

* * *

**Daedalus**

"Contact Atlantis, let them know we are on approach," Colonel Steven Caldwell ordered Major Marks. With swift finger motions on the touch panel, Marks complied.

"Sir, they are asking us to divert to Arula. Seems we are needed to extract Mr. Woolsey and effect a rescue of one of their officers trapped in a cave in."

"It's always something with those people." The colonel activated his communication unit in his command chair. "This is Caldwell." He listened to the recitation of events. "Rodger that, Daedalus will coordinate with Colonel Sheppard. Plot a course to Arula. We have some mining to do."

Then he briefed the bridge crew and sent rescue teams to the transporter room. Once in range of Arula, Caldwell contacted Sheppard.

"What's your current situation, Sheppard?"

"We are maintaining a cloaked position over the President's office. She has Mr. Woolsey in there. He is trying to negotiate but she is refusing to yield him. However, she also knows I have several Jumpers standing by."

"Good work, now I want to speak with her. I'll get back to you." Caldwell instructed the communications officer to connect him with President Roslin. Presently, she came on the line using the usual phone system, which Hermiod patched into the bridge. Roslin couldn't understand how it worked but she was so angry it didn't matter.

"This is President Roslin, Colonel Caldwell. I assume you can hear me?" She spoke in clipped tones.

"Yes, ma'am, I understand you have an officer trapped underground. We are ready to offer assistance."

"Thank you Colonel. I have ordered my troops to clear the area. You may proceed with landing your excavation teams."

"What about Mr. Woolsey?"

"He is here."

"May I speak with him?"

"Woolsey, hello Colonel."

"Are you all right, sir?"

"I'm fine, just detained in… conference."

"I see. Do you wish to conclude your meeting?"

"Not at this moment, no, but I would like to monitor the rescue and then discuss my departure with President Roslin."

"I see. We'll be in orbit until you are satisfied."

"Thank you, Colonel," Woolsey said knowing the Colonel received his message loud and clear. Caldwell would have to beam him out.

Cutting the link, Caldwell ordered his extraction teams to beam directly into the Tomb. Starbuck was in the chair chamber. Only battery-operated lights left from the dig illuminated the chamber now that the Z.P. M. was gone. Dozing to conserve oxygen, she was surprised to hear then see four armed men materialize in the antechamber.

"Well it's about frakking time," she huffed from the chair. Having seen the transporter in action on Atlantis on her first visit, she knew what happened.

"Let's go, ma'am," the Marine Sergeant commanded. He beckoned her to join them. Taking a locator beacon and attaching it to her shoulder, he gave the command to transport her. She left but the others stayed. They had orders to find and remove all the drones. Extra locator beacons provided Hermiod with the means to identify the wares and then remove both them and the Marines to a cargo bay. Starbuck never saw what happened.

"Mr. Woolsey, we have Captain Thrace on board receiving a medical check in sickbay. Where would the President like the captain returned?"

"Colonel, please send her to my office as soon as she can travel. Is she injured?"

"No, ma'am, we are being cautious that's all."

"I see. Please let General O'Neill know that I would like a face to face meeting."

"If you do not need Mr. Woolsey any more today, he can tell the general himself."

"Don't let me detain you any longer, Mr. Woolsey. You've done enough."

The look from her gave him the real subtext to her words. She was very angry. Once again, the Atlantis people showed their superiority in a most arrogant manner. Her anger only increased as Woolsey dematerialized right in front of her to return to the Daedalus. Starbuck materialized before Roslin, confused then came to attention.

"Ms. Foster, call the Admiral. Tell him I want to meet with him in my office right now. Captain, report."

* * *

**Beta Site HQ**

During this whole time, Lt. Colonel Cam Mitchell supervised the traffic between the Galactica and the Atlantis teams. With him, Lt. Felix Gaeta from the Galactica assisted to make sure the right parties got the correct supplies. The two men worked with a good rapport established from several prior meetings.

Mitchell controlled the flow to the Alpha Site, where supplies and doctors from Atlantis and the SGC worked on the Galactica wounded. There, triage procedures sent the worst of the Galactica wounded to Atlantis. Puddle Jumper crews worked to extract people from various compartments cut off from the rest of the ship. Finally, the teams found no more to transport.

From that point, Mitchell and Gaeta routed supplies up to the stricken ship. Load after load of parts and technicians made the journey from Atlantis to the Beta Site and up to the Galactica or the Pegasus to join repair crews. Some time after the wounded stopped arriving, Gaeta noticed there were a decrease and then a halt to requests for repair items and technicians. After speaking to the Lee Adama, the Pegasus commander, he learned about the near mutiny and the miracles. Lee ordered Gaeta to talk to Mitchell to get the story straight.

"Mitchell, we have to talk, now."

"Can it wait? I'm up to my earballs in snafu."

"No, it can't. Let the captain work it for a while. Take a walk with me."

Gaeta's face gave Mitchell pause, so he complied. Mitchell realized he was hungry. As they walked, Mitchell guided them over to the chow line. Then they sat down to eat.

"Look, Mitchell, this time I have to have a straight answer. This is from the Old Man via his son." Gaeta told Mitchell what he knew. Cam chewed slowly thinking over his reply.

"Promise you aren't going to get mad when I tell you. I don't need that right now. We have enough problems."

"Fine, just spit it out."

"Okay, no disrespect to your beliefs, but you have things exaggerated about O'Neill and Jackson."

"I know that. What do you take me for?" Gaeta chewed some of his chow. Thinking it over, he asked, "Like what?"

"Well, for one thing, no way are Dr. Jackson and General O'Neill gods or anything like them. That's superstition."

"Okay, then explain the dying, resurrecting, and the miracles."

"The miracles are only from using advanced medical technology and tools. In our wanderings, we acquired some alien devices. One of those devices is a hand held medical tool that can fix broken bones, some internal injuries, things like that. It isn't fool proof. You also have to use it quickly if someone is very injured."

"Okay that doesn't sound so bad. Then why do people think that General O'Neill shot light out of his hand to heal by touch?"

"Because it fits in the palm of your hand and glows when it is working," Cam made the gesture indicating where it would fit. Questions went back and forth between the two men. Cam described the Goa'uld, naquadah, blending with symbiotes. He then explained why O'Neill was the only choice to use the device.

"It sounds like science fiction entertainment stories."

"Yes, it does. I won't argue that one."

"What about all this dying and coming back to life stuff?"

"There's a Goa'uld extra-strength healing devices we call a sarcophagus. It's a big box not a hand held thing and way more powerful. It finds the barest flame of life still left in a body, which our instruments cannot detect. It only appears someone came back from the dead. If we get someone inside it fast enough, then it works. Wait too long and they stay dead."

"But you said they weren't really dead."

"Well, whatever was left dies out and they don't get up. Even so, it doesn't always work and there's a terrible downside to using it too much."

"Like what?"

"Oh going evil, things like that."

"Is that what resurrected General O'Neill and Dr. Jackson?"

"Yes."

"What about this business of Jackson becoming a god?"

"He did not become a god. He became energy and lived on a higher plane of existence."

"Isn't that just another way of saying he became a god?"

"No, because he could still die and he had limitations."

"The gods can die. Athena threw herself off a cliff rather than leave Kobol. Her tomb is there. "C'mon Mitchell, the rest of it. I have to have the truth."

"Gaeta, you want the truth? Don't get mad."

"I said I wouldn't."

"Athena and those other gods were not gods. They were advanced aliens who had special abilities and knowledge. To primitive humans, they seemed like gods."

"How do you know?"

"Because we've met some. Dr. Jackson lived with them for a while."

"When he became a god?"

"Will you knock it off? Jackson did not become a god. He rose to a higher plane of existence as pure energy. While he was there, he communicated with General O'Neill. Then he retook human form."

"He did?" Gaeta sat back in disbelief. "You say he was dead but didn't die. How did he die so he wasn't dead?"

"He sort of died from radiation poisoning in front of the General and Colonel Carter and lots of other folks. Right in front of them, he rose as energy leaving no body behind. Later he came back to talk to the General. After that, he came back as a human being. He did this twice."

"See that sounds like something a god would do."

Cam shook his head trying to get through to this guy. Slowly he tried again.

"They are not gods. They were people like us, who managed to become energy. Dr. Jackson decided he would rather be human than hang out for all eternity with those guys, not that they are evil, well some are, but Jackson didn't like the rules."

"Can he still become a god or whatever the energy beings are?"

"Theoretically he could, but there's no guarantee he can do it again."

"If he could do it twice before, then why not do it again?"

"He had help."

"And that help is gone?"

"Sort of."

"See this is what keeps us so upset. We never get a full answer."

"It's because there are no hard and fast answers about this. Look, one of the Ascended Beings took a shine to Dr. Jackson. We know right now that she went off to do her own thing. So we don't know if she or any of the others would help him again. They are people. They do things for their own reasons. I've talked to one. Carter talked to two. Vala has talked to two. Weir talked to one. Teal'c talked to three. Sheppard talked to a whole bunch and dated two."

"Now you are making fun of us. I don't appreciate it. We are through, Mitchell." Gaeta got up and stalked off.

* * *

**Arula: Roslin's office**

"Admiral, this can not continue. We have to make a united front. From what Tom tells me, Starbuck delivered a weapon to level the playing field with these people. Mr. Gaeta is telling you they despise our religion and are trying to muddy the waters with outrageous claims to manipulate us. At the same time, they make one arrogant display of power after another. Then in the same breath, make miracles.

"Madame President," Adama began and checked himself. He understood her, all too well. She was right. They did act arrogantly. Sealing up the tomb entrance was a breach of protocol between any two societies. As a military man, he knew he might have done the same thing as Sheppard did.

"Don't defend them, Bill."

"I wasn't going to other than to say this has been another misunderstanding."

"Here are your orders, Admiral. If I am still President," she glared at him and he nodded. "Then I want you to get the whole truth out of O'Neill. No more evasion. Make it clear to him we aren't playing games."

"Ma'am, you aren't thinking of accepting Zarek's recommendation?"

"I'm leaving it on the table. What we do depends on how things change. But we do it together. Meantime, I'll deal with the Geminons and the Quorum."

"Fine but who's going to sit on Zarek?"

* * *

**Atlantis: Next Day**

"General," Mr. Woolsey addressed O'Neill in his office. "Are you sure it's such a good idea to have Adama in the city? What if he figures out the Ancient gene?"

"Relax, Dick. The IOA wants the jump drive schematics so this is part of the negotiation. Bill wants a face to face. I can't risk going there again anytime soon."

"That's part of the problem. Their leaders can't control the populace. The situation is out of control."

"I'm trying to deal with it, Dick. Right now, I've got three Colonials who rose from the dead and a credible witness who saw it. I can't release them until I have a talk with the Admiral."

"I'm just glad Dr. Jackson removed the Z.P. M. from the tomb."

"Well, we are going to have to figure something out because that's our best shot at defending the place if the Wraith come banging at the door."

"We have bloodied their noses before," Woolsey huffed.

"We did it with the Daedalus and a working Ancient Chair." Jack swiveled in his chair, tossing a paper ball. "Speaking of which, when are the new ships rolling out?"

"Not for a while," Woolsey admitted grudgingly.

"My point exactly, Dick. We aren't getting any more ships in the near future. They have ships. So be nice."

"I've seen this situation before," Woolsey added. "Religious fanatics of any variety are wild cards."

"Adama doesn't strike me as one of them. I all but told him the truth. He understood. Right now, he's insisting on more disclosure so he can get the situation under control."

"Think he or Roslin can?"

Jack just shrugged. "If he can't and she can't, we pull back until they do."

Near the new liaison office on Atlantis, Adama walked to the balcony to look over the city. As always, it was spectacular. It reminded him of the architecture of Caprica's Capital. He felt nostalgia, as the tang of salt air felt fresh assaulted his nose. He reviewed Gaeta's report in his mind. The answers were not satisfactory. Gaeta's report only opened more questions.

Over the course of those few months, Adama had time to become familiar with General O'Neill. In his opinion, O'Neill was a decent sort. To O'Neill's credit, he denied being a god, emphatically. Yesterday, Lt. Colonel Mitchell confirmed to Lt. Commander Gaeta that the pair had died repeatedly, and then, resurrected many times. It had to be a metaphor for something. Maybe they suffered horrendous near death experiences which poetic license could call 'death.' He wondered what the story really was.

Adama shook his head. He had never been a fundamentalist of any variety. Nor had he really paid all that much attention to the Colonial religion. Mostly, he paid it lip service so long as it kept the fleet motivated to work together. However, the Fleet was in an uproar over the recent events. Besides, he wanted to retrieve Chief Tyrol and the others. Something had happened so serious that O'Neill would not release them without a meeting first.

O'Neill came out to stand with his counterpart. They stood in companionable silence taking in the scene. One look between them was enough to start the conversation. It was the elephant sitting in the room.

"Well, you look pretty good for a dead guy."

"Well, the real problem, Bill, is not knowing when my birthday is."

Adama looked at him askance. That was the last thing he never expected to hear. "What?"

"Yeah, if I died all those times and came back was I 're-born'? Because if I was then I have a different birthday, or maybe," Jack sighed, "I have multiple birthdays?"

"You are just looking for an excuse to have a cake," Daniel grinned walking up to the pair. Jack had asked him to come and put the rumors to bed.

"You have the same problem, Dannyboy. Is your birthday when Ra killed you; when Apophis shot you; when Oma dumped you naked in that field; or when you showed up naked in my office after RepliCarter got you?"

"Um, creepy, Jack."

"Not really."

"Yeah, really."

"Um, no it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"Not."

"Is."

Not."

What?"

"What?"

Adama snorted, "Just a simple answer, please. Enough with the doubletalk."

"There's no way to say this delicately, Bill." Jack waited for a nod. "You sure?"

"You warned me that our religion is about to be debunked. I should add, I never believed most of it. Spit it out, Jack."

"Fine, Gaeta told you what Mitchell said?" Adama nodded. Jack indicated he wanted Daniel to take over.

"Admiral, your gods are aliens who posed as gods. Before you get angry," Daniel started to speak rapidly, "I met them and became one of them. I assure you they are not gods."

"So let me speak to them."

"We can't. It doesn't work that way." Adama looked skeptical. "They have to want to speak to us. They don't come if we call. They have a firm rule about not interfering in the affairs of 'lowers.' That's what they call us."

"But you said they interfered by posing as our gods."

"Yes, ten thousand years ago the ones who had not ascended returned to Earth from here fleeing from the Wraith. They mixed in with the population. Some of them must have seemed to be gods. They were very advanced. Because of their advanced devices, knowledge, and abilities, the primitives decided they were…gods."

"Okay, I can see that. We would look very powerful to our ancestors."

"Right. Well, some of these folks were changing. Their bodies reached a point where they could evolve into beings of pure energy. Some didn't. We've met both. This city was their city. Probably from here, they spread humans across several galaxies."

"So are there any of them here now?"

"Unfortunately, no," Daniel admitted sadly.

"But there were," Jack added. "I met them, a whole ship full of them. But they died in battle with a bunch of no good genocidal robots."

"Cylons?"

"No, worse," Jack confirmed. "I told you about the Replicators?"

"Yes, but if those people were so advanced, how did these robots win? And why aren't they here now?"

"Oy."

"Jack and Mr. Woolsey were here with the folks we call the Ancients. The Replicators showed up to kill the Ancients, long history of bad blood between them. Jack and Woolsey hid until we could mount a rescue. Dr. McKay came up with a way to kill these Replicators. It was a way we didn't have time to teach the Ancients."

Jack noticed Daniel managed to avoid any reference to the Asgard help the first time Jack built an anti-Replicator device onboard Thor's ship. He made a note to give Daniel credit for that smooth move. Daniel certainly had learned a few things in all these years.

"We are getting a little off track. Don't you think, Daniel?"

"It's all fascinating. Do go on Dr. Jackson." Adama folded his arms across his chest. "Our false gods showed up after ten thousand years, got themselves killed, but you survived to kill more robots but couldn't save advanced people with godlike powers. C'mon Jack, how dumb do you think I am?"


	14. Chapter 14: Taking A Meeting

**Chapter 14: Taking A Meeting**

**Atlantis**

Admiral William Adama stood before Jack and Daniel with a look of utter disgust and disbelief. The whole matter of resurrections, ascensions, miracle cures, and myth busting made him think those two were either insane, deliberately handing him bull, or both. The question was why. What were they hiding so vigorously?

"Fine, you've had your little joke at my expense. Now, let's get down to business and cut the crap."

Jack frowned. Assuming his command demeanor he addressed Adama, "Bill, despite our attempt at softening the blow, you base your religion on the myths surrounding the Ancients who returned to Earth from here and mixed in with the population. You can verify it here and on Earth. How you choose to deal with it is up to you. But I tell you right now, the riots have to stop."

"What do you take me for, Jack? I know they have to stop. You have to give me what I need to do it."

"No, Bill. Either Roslin and you can control your populace or we'll wait until someone does."

"What's that supposed to mean? Have you been talking to Zarek behind my back?"

"No." Jack answered simply. "I agreed to deal straight with you, Bill."

"Admiral, what Jack is saying is that we can't risk our people among yours until the situation is calmer."

"Are you stranding us, Jack?"

"Did I say that, Bill?" Jack was deadly serious. Adama faced him down. "You will get everything we promised once the situation is under control."

"I see." Adama thought for a minute. "You have to know that nothing you have said explains much."

"Guess you had to be there," Daniel muttered.

"Bill, bottom line, none of it matters for what you and I have to do. You control your people or we pull back ours until you do."

Adama was about to argue but at that moment, Jack disappeared in a bright flash of white light. Then Adama got mad.

"Dr. Jackson, that's a helluva way to end conversation."

"Uh, he didn't do it."

"What?"

"Someone else beamed him out. I don't think Jack expected it… at all."

"Then what…"

"Just a minute, sir," Daniel commed Sam. "Sam, Jack just beamed out. Know anything about it?"

"No, maybe the Daedalus is back."

"Wouldn't they call first?"

"Yes, do you think…"

"Yes, yes I do." Daniel smiled weakly back at Adama, "Admiral Adama is none too pleased with the exit."

"Uh oh," Sam groaned. "I'll alert everyone."

"Thanks, Sam." He gave Adama a straight face. "So, hungry? This could take a while."

"No, I am not hungry, Dr. Jackson. I want you to finish the explanation."

"Well, I could show you the Library," Daniel offered. Only Adama disappeared in a flash of bright white light. Daniel shrugged and went to get some lunch, letting Carter know what happened over the headset.

* * *

**Thor's Ship**

Adama found himself standing in a big room with equipment. Startled and afraid, he turned to see the rest of the room. He was shocked to see O'Neill sitting and conversing with some Thing.

"Is this the human of which you spoke, O'Neill?" Thor turned his large head and deep black eyes toward Adama.

"Thor, this is Admiral William Adama of the _Battlestar Galactica_.

"Admiral, this is my good friend, Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. Thor is an alien, Bill, a good alien."

"Greetings Admiral William Adama," Thor intoned.

"Greetings," Adama said sharply, collecting his wits quickly. "Why have you brought me here like this, Jack?"

"Bill, you wanted the truth, well here's part of it. I told you we know some aliens. This is an Asgard. They are extremely advanced, beyond us...usually," Jack frowned at Thor. "Apparently, there were developments of which we were not aware. You are going to want to hear this. It affects the future of all our peoples."

Adama glared at him. Jack ignored the glare, walking back towards Thor, and beckoning Adama. Adama remained fixed.

"This is outrageous."

"Yes, yes, it is, Bill. I am sorry, but it is beyond my control. They do things like this all the time, but they mean it in a good way. If you want to understand everything, I'm sorry but you'll just have to get used to it."

"Admiral William Adama, I apologize for bringing you aboard so abruptly," Thor said evenly. "We have need of your expertise in Cylons."

"Cylons, are they here?" He looked around to check.

"No, not on this ship, but soon they will arrive."

"Bill, Thor and his buddies got too curious for their own good." Jack turned to Thor, "I told you nothing good would come of it."

"Indeed," Thor admitted. "There is no purpose served in mourning overturned milk."

"That's 'no point crying over spilt milk'," Jack patted Thor on the shoulder. "I'll tell him." Jack sighed. He shrugged back at Thor, who started to object. Jack held up a finger to wag it, "Ack!" He shot a look at Thor who sat down at his console chair. "This time, despite my warnings, they went to find your homeworld and study these Cylons."

"What the frak for!" sputtered an outraged Adama.

"Long story, Bill," Jack caught Adama's do not play me look. Jack sighed, "Okay. They have problems reproducing and thought maybe the Cylon construction could help them." Jack shrugged. "Instead, they've got Cylons on their ass."

Adama looked from one to the other in angry disbelief. He shook his head slowly, then pinched his nose to get himself back under control. Slowly, he took off his glasses, and wiped them thoughtfully.

"Jack, that's something so stupid not even a nugget would do it! I thought you people were so much more advanced. Well, the joke's on me." Adama replaced his glasses and assumed his full command persona. "And now we are frakked! The Galactica is in no condition to fight. The fleet is not with the colonists. You don't have enough ships to support them in two locations and here. Maybe that weapon Starbuck found can help, but we haven't really tested it. So, Jack, unless your really 'big' ships are nearby, how do you propose to fix this?"

"Glad you asked me, Bill." Jack turned to Thor, "how much time?"

"I estimate that they will be here in a month."

"A month, I thought you said you had them on your ass?"

"First they have to upgrade their engines. That will take about a month including the trip across the void."

"What do you mean 'upgrade their engines,' Thor," Adama asked patiently.

"I don't want to hear this," Jack growled.

"We managed to take several Cylons prisoner to study them. One of our scientists volunteered to be downloaded into a cloned Cylon."

"What is he talking about?" Adama demanded.

"When I said I couldn't return your Cylons, Bill," Jack reminded him. Jack stuck his hand out to Thor. "They had them."

The awful truth slowly dawned on the incredulous Admiral. His quick mind considered many permutations to the problem. He didn't like any of them.

"Is Sharon Agathon still alive?"

"The Cylon as denoted is still at our research facility."

"Get her back here."

"She is crucial to our ability…"

"Get her back here, now!" Adama went toe to toe with Thor. "She is an officer in my fleet and one of our people. She's more important to this situation than you realize."

"It will take a few days to retrieve her. She is not in this galaxy."

"I know you can go between galaxies in hours, not days. Don't try to con me."

"She is in a remote galaxy." Thor looked at O'Neill, who didn't like where this was going. "Our research facility is far from our home galaxy and yours for protection, O'Neill."

"Some protection," Adama answered. "Why did you lead them here, then?"

"We did not. Once the scientist was in the body, the body transmitted information. We realized it, quickly but not fast enough. We had to do the unthinkable and terminate him."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack was horrified, knowing how serious the situation just became.

"Now the Cylons know where the Colonials are and about Atlantis. With Asgard knowledge, they can build efficient intergalactic engines."

"How much did they learn?" Jack walked up to Thor, "How bad?"

"As I said, we terminated him at the beginning of the transmission, but some information was sent."

"In other words, you don't know."

"We do not."

"Then how do you know they will improve the engines?"

"One of our scout ships observed them testing one of our engines on a small fighter. I am sorry, O'Neill."

"This is the most blown mission ever, pal," Jack huffed. "Okay, I've heard enough. Thor, you have to help."

"We concur, O'Neill. The Asgard High Council has authorized me to make a significant transfer of technology to upgrade your defensive capabilities."

"What about 'offensive' capabilities?"

"We do not have authorization."

"Well, let me speak to the Council. And another thing, it's about time we had one of those Asgard phones. The President is asking and now I insist. We have to have better communication."

"I agree."

"Good, then, what are you giving us?"

"Capabilities to construct our shields and other such items," Thor answered looking at a holographic readout. "Two of your ships are half-way to completion. We shall finish them for you."

"Great, but we need more than two ships."

"The Asgard will send part of the fleet."

"Part?"

"We still have to deal with other issues of importance to the Asgard."

"Commander Thor, they hate all organic life forms, not just humans," Adama interrupted. "After they get us, they'll go after you."

"We expect as much. Admiral Adama, we need to access all your pertinent information concerning the Cylons."

"We gave General O'Neill all our data."

"We have reviewed that data. It is our experience that sometimes information is omitted in reports. We would like to speak to your experts directly."

"Before I authorize such an effort, I want a full briefing on the situation."

"Bill, we've been trying to do just that. You don't believe us."

"Listen General, my team and I need a full briefing. I assume you can deliver them the same way you took me. I'll give you the list."

"That's not such a good idea to involve more people."

"Sorry Jack, it's not negotiable."

"Whom do you wish to attend?" Thor played with his console.

"Now? Here?"

"Sure, why not," Jack asked? Adama flinched then decided to go with it.

"I need Major Lee Adama, Colonel Saul Tigh, Lt. Gaeta, and Captain Kara Thrace. They are spread out between the Beta site and Arula. Can you get them?"

"Sure," Jack answered looking to Thor to do something. "Um, Thor, would you bring Daniel and Carter up while you're at it, please?" Daniel and Sam arrived looking around to get their bearings.

"Hi, Thor," Sam smiled recognizing the small grey alien.

"Greetings Colonel Carter," Thor replied. "And Dr. Jackson."

"Hi Thor, so what's going on?"

Daniel checked to see how Adama was taking it. A small lurch sent them into hyperspace. Suddenly, Lee Adama and Colonel Tigh arrived. Confusion was soon replaced with outrage.

"What the hell is this?" Tigh roared after turning to see Adama with Jack, Daniel, Sam, and Thor. He barreled up to Adama and put himself between them. Lee did the same thing to protect his father.

"Settle down. That's an order." Adama said softly. "We're just talking."

"And what the frak is that," Tigh sputtered pointing at Thor?

"That old friend is an alien, a real alien." Adama waited for Tigh to get a grip on himself. "Supreme Commander Thor, I would like to present my Executive Officer, Colonel Saul Tigh, and my son, Major Lee Adama."

"Greetings Colonel Saul Tigh and Major Lee Adama, I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet."

"Uh, greetings," Lee managed to utter. Covered in stubble, Tigh stood there gaping with his one eye. Moments later, Starbuck and Gaeta appeared. They too were amazed when they saw the Admiral and the others.

"Sir," Starbuck said, reaching to draw her weapon. It wasn't there. "What the frak just happened?"

"Stand down, Captain. You are here at my request. It seems we have more 'friends.' That is Commander Thor. He's an alien friend of General O'Neill."

"Greetings Captain Thrace, Lt. Gaeta."

Gaeta recovered enough to return the greetings. Starbuck moved to protect Adama. The wily old Admiral calmly pushed her aside and stood next to Jack. The two men shared exasperated looks at one another. Jack got down to business.

"Thor, would you mind making a conference table with …chairs?" Jack watched them appear in the center of the room. "Sweet!"

"We should have asked for this a long time ago," Daniel muttered to Sam.

"This is one PowerPoint presentation I'm glad I didn't have to put together," she joked back to him, as everyone took a seat.

Tigh exchanged a worried glance at Adama who sat like stone, watching and assessing the players. All the reasons for the deaths and resurrections played in his mind. It occurred to him that Jack and Daniel might not be human but machines. Machinery would explain the problem. Human or machines, Adama wondered if this other race controlled them. Were they some sort of overlords? All his suspicions put him at alert. Lee sensed that his father was deeply troubled. He became more focused. Tigh was boiling as usual. Gaeta observed the items in the ship carefully. Starbuck had had a bad day. She rallied forcing herself to pay attention. Nothing had prepared any of them for a meeting with a real alien.

"The Admiral asked us to bring you here for a briefing on a situation that has come up," Jack began formally. "The Cylons are coming."


	15. Chapter 15: Adama and Eve

**Chapter 15: Adama and ...Eve**

**

* * *

**

**Asgard Cylon Cloning Research Facility**

"You, come out," the Asgard with the security controls activated Sharon Agathon's restraining collar. From the control chamber above, the little Roswell Grey blinked his large black eyes in dismay at his console. The message indicated it would be shipped out. He activated the doorway to the corridor. It would be shunted through various security doors and rooms until it reached the freight center. It gave him a look of pure hatred.

_Be strong, _said the voice of Cylon Number Six in her head_. Place yourself some other where. See the flowers lining the path through the garden. Reality is what you say it is._

"Aw shut the frak up," Sharon voiced aloud. The slender oriental-looking Cylon stood up. Her beautiful long black hair had grown more during her captivity. The creatures here were forever taking measurements of it. They kept wondering why she was losing more weight. Well, not eating would do it.

"You will come," the Asgard repeated evenly.

"I will strangle that skinny grey neck like a chicken you frakking freak."

"You will come or I will activate the neuron-circuits and make you go."

Sharon glared again, and then shook her head in disgust. She knew he could do it too. After two and a half months with these aliens, Sharon knew they could make her body do anything they wanted, except control her thoughts. They also treated her like an inanimate object. They even kept her naked, as they were. Fortunately, the ship was warm enough.

"I am Lt. Sharon Agathon, you ugly naked little creature. Address me with respect."

"You will continue through the hallways until you reach your final destination when your collar will subdue you."

"I am Lt. Sharon Agathon, call sign Athena of the Colonial Fleet. I am the wife of Lt. Commander Karl Agathon and mother of Hera Agathon. You will address me with respect."

_Good for you, but it won't help. We are trying to find a frequency to connect more of us. Keep him distracted._

"Aw shut the frak up you slut."

_We both know love Sharon. Is it so difficult for you to realize that?_

"You don't know frak about love."

"This discussion is pointless, Cylon. Move out the door and follow the lights through the corridors. This is your last warning."

"Or you'll, what, take me over again? You can but you cannot and that frustrates you. I know." Sharon got up to move on her own volition. "What have you done with my daughter, Hera?"

"The corridor leads to a junction where you will wait until the door opens." The Asgard ignored its rants. It was just a machine anyway.

"So finally going to toss me out the airlock."

"No, we have other uses for you. Door is now open. Proceed."

_Hera is not here. We still cannot combine to speak as a group. Keep that thing talking. Sharon, they want something from you."_

"What?"

"_We don't know yet. A Brother Cavel says they received word today from a central authority concerning you."_

"Oh great, more experiments," Sharon looked down the long corridor and saw another door. She did not hurry. Just to be nasty, she peed on the floor. They hated when the Cylons did that. It reminded the Greys that the bodies were as organic as they were.

"You will cease that function in inappropriate areas or we shall condition you."

Sharon grimaced with anger. Although the Greys used the collars sparingly, the Cylons did understand the control it gave their captors.

_Fight them any way you can, but do not be stupid. There has to be a way out._

"Where is my daughter you frakking nightmare? Gods curse you for all eternity."

"Door is open, proceed."

_A Leoben tells us that one of these Things tried to download into his model. He says the body partially transmitted a message before the Asgard terminated that individual. Have faith, Sharon. God works in mysterious ways._

Once inside, Sharon observed the machinery moving about a large shipping facility. Boxes and crates stood stacked against the walls. Others moved silently, floating past her view. The little greys were loading one of the ships docked outside. Sharon flashed on the flight deck of the _Galactica_. She could remember Chief Tyrol shouting orders getting her Viper ready. It made her mad.

_Good stay mad if it helps keep you focused. God has a plan for all of us, Sharon. Remember God loves you._

"Save it for someone who cares," Sharon growled. From the corner of her eye, she saw a floating crate move towards her. None of the grey freaks would dare to approach. They had learned that lesson the hard way early on. She had killed one that day when they tried to put that damn collar on her. Strange thing was, he returned almost immediately. He was mad. He shot her with a stun pistol. Sharon woke up with the collar on and a giant headache. She wondered if they were some new form of Cylon.

"Stand in the alcove," a Grey from up above directed her.

"No, tell me why first," she would resist no matter what.

"So we can ship you out."

"Where?"

"Get in the alcove to your right."

"Where's my daughter? Where is Hera? Show me my daughter and we'll talk about it."

"The small Cylon to which you refer is already on board. Now, get in the unit to your right."

"Liar!" Sharon shrieked. "Where's my baby? Where's Hera?"

The collar activated. Sharon realized she was standing in the alcove with no memory of how she got there. It was the last thing she thought before the Asgard put her in stasis.

* * *

**Arula: President Roslin's Office**

In the spacious office President Laura Roslin now occupied on the new Colonial home world of Arula, Laura Roslin sat in shock. She stared directly at the Admiral of the Fleet. Nothing else stayed in focus. She saw the grim wizened visage of the crafty strategist who had single handedly kept the fleet together and got them away from the Cylons. Without William Adama, the various ships would never have stayed together. The force of the man's personality along with his long military career saved the forty thousand survivors of the Cylon holocaust. He was a small man with big charisma. Pugnacious and determined, he took up the burden to save the last remnants of humanity, as they knew it. With a last supreme effort, he did get them all through to this haven. With supplies nearly depleted, Adama found help, or so they thought. The humans of this galaxy gave the Fleet refuge. In return for information and a mutual defense pact, the Atlantis Base gave the Colonials supplies and their own planet. The Atlantis team purported to be from Earth and proved it; but they were an arrogant breed. Now, they and their alien friends had brought the scourge of the Cylons upon everyone. To Roslin's horror, the Colonials were back to square one after the two and a half month reprieve.

Some reprieve, thought Roslin. In her opinion, the respite was nothing less than capture by an advanced force whose demands had not even begun to be known. In her opinion, their saviors would be their downfall. These new 'friends' were the most arrogant of any folk she had read about in bad science fiction stories. They had outlandish capabilities and near mystical powers. All indications seemed to confirm that they were indeed from Earth. If Earth was inhabited by their kind, Roslin wondered how her people would fare if they ever got there. Now, it was a moot point because no one knew where Earth was and the welcome mat was not out. Given today's news, these Earth folk could not be trusted. Everyone in the Colonial government and military had known that the Earth people were hiding a terrible secret. Vice President Tom Zarek had been right about that all along. Today the secret was out. Their saviors were not their own masters. No one had anticipated that being Earth's nasty secret.

"Under the circumstances, Mr. Zarek," Roslin began. "I don't see how we can move on your suggestion to take over Atlantis. Now, we have an unknown force that is even more powerful than these arrogant fools."

"Fools is a good description, Madame President."

Zarek was as stunned by the news as anyone. A tall lean man in his middle fifties, Zarek was a handsome figure with predatory eyes. He had been a convicted terrorist, luckily on board a prison transport ship when the Holocaust happened. After staging a revolt for better treatment, he became a leader in his own right. Once freed, his connections got him elected to the Quorum to represent Geminon colonists. From there, he became Gaius Baltar's Vice President, and then succeeded him. After the escape from New Caprica, he ruthlessly cleaned house and stepped down in favor of Roslin. Now he was on her team and … a power behind the scenes. She knew him for what he was. She also knew when the situation was dire; he knew where his loyalties had to be. They didn't always agree on how to proceed. Still, he knew when to play ball.

"I agree we can't act on my plans. We just have to adapt them."

"What plans," Adama asked with unbelievable patience. He knew about Zarek's plans. Nevertheless, he wanted to bait the trap on the man to put him in his place.

"I had drawn up some ideas of how we could overrun their facility with the idea of dictating to the dictators. The weapon Starbuck found was the bargaining chip."

"Zarek, you are the fool if you thought for one moment that was a viable plan." Adama leaned in to the table. "Even if we did manage to capture the Control Room, they have a ship many times the size of Atlantis. It is even bigger than Caprica and its suburbs. I saw it. I toured it."

"Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?"

"Mr. Zarek, the _O'Neill II_ can make its own weather when it enters the atmosphere just from the disturbance it causes." Adama gave the Vice President a hard look to deliver the coup de grace. "And those ships, Mr. Zarek, have a transporter that can scramble your atoms in the blink of an eye from anywhere without warning and send those atoms into space. They say you wouldn't feel a thing, but you'd die as effectively."

"They named the ship after General O'Neill?" Zarek sputtered and Roslin blanched. It was one thing to contemplate a standard military assault. It was another to imagine ones atoms floating in space. Hearing that one alien group named a capital ship after another alien was incomprehensible. "They like him that much?"

"Oh yes, and one named after Dr. Jackson and Colonel Carter. It seems they have been in bed with these aliens for sometime. I saw Colonel Carter give this Thor a hug and a kiss before she went back to the city."

Impressed, Roslin got her thoughts back on track first.

"So what do they say they want?"

"They want to talk to our experts. There may be some facts omitted or some ideas someone may have that was not in the data we originally gave O'Neill."

"I don't understand that. Didn't O'Neill turn our Cylon information over to these creatures?"

"Yes, and they had the Cylons from our ships the whole time. Previously, Jack told me he didn't have control and could not return them when I asked. This time, I demanded that they return Sharon Agathon. I got the runaround." Adama snorted in disbelief. "They claim to be holding them in a third galaxy."

"What else?"

"They want to expedite repairs to the Galactica and upgrade our defenses with their technology."

"They are willing to 'give' us these upgrades?" Zarek smiled a rueful grin. "Forgive me for not being naïve, but you are talking about equipment we will not understand. Who knows what else they will install."

"I thought of that, Mr. Zarek." Adama gave him a schoolteacher's look over his glasses. "The other problem is that they need to come aboard to do the job and staff that equipment."

"You're kidding," Roslin gasped. "We just got through a near mutiny over some parlor trick to fix a few broken bones. You want to let real aliens run around the ships?"

"I know, of course that's the problem, which is what O'Neill wanted to address," Adama paused. "He said that we have to get control over our population or they would pull back their help after this is settled."

"If we have these new shields, do we care what he thinks anymore?" Zarek tapped his pen on the pad. "You said we would get new force field shields?"

"Yes, we will care, greatly, Mr. Zarek. Never doubt how much."

"Tom, we still need the food and other supplies until we are self-sufficient," Roslin counseled her aggressive VP. _He's so angry he's not thinking straight. I need him focused._

"What else, Admiral," Zarek knew Adama had negotiated a package. He wanted to hear it before deciding anything. Zarek was a politician, too. Usually, he consorted with the lower element of society and the fringe. Nevertheless, he was a leader in his own right. Bringing that element to heel was essential and now a priority. There could be no dissention.

"Deflectors," Adama read from his notes. "And they will reinforce our structural integrity with their devices and give us a transporter."

"A transporter?" Roslin was amazed. "You mean a molecule scrambler?"

"Yes, and more nukes. They will re-supply our ordnance with replicas of what we use."

"Amazing," Zarek replied. "They would arm us and give us defenses that they can not penetrate?"

"No, they have energy weapons which would." Adama checked his notes. "Jack asked Thor to give us some. They are still discussing it."

"Okay, what's the catch and don't say there isn't one," Zarek snorted.

"Oh there's a catch and it's a beauty." Adama looked at each one in turn. "First, they want to use some of our Raptors and smaller Jump capable ships as weapons with nuclear ordnance."

Zarek groaned. Laura hissed, "I don't think so."

"What the frak for," Zarek objected? "We are supposed to sacrifice our pilots?"

"They say they have a way to make them most effective without any of our pilots getting harmed. They just want the equipment."

"And again, I'll ask, what the frak for?"

"They say they don't have enough ships to do the job."

"What?!"

"Why not?"

"The real catch is that the Wraith and the Replicators aren't the only bad guys out there. There are more and worse. The Asgard and Earth split their fleet between the war zones. General O'Neill says the other enemies are more powerful and more evil than we can imagine. Some of the Asgard fleet is detailed to protect their homeworlds in that effort."

"These people are at war with multiple alien groups?" Zarek began to understand the truly serious nature of the situation. They were not dealing with just a few humans on Atlantis and one planet in another galaxy.

"We are tied into a warmongering race of aliens?" Roslin felt as though the bottom dropped out of her existence. She readily understood the ramifications of their treaty with these Earthlings. The mutual defense pact was a land mine. No matter what good O'Neill had offered, it was worth nothing. He blithely shoveled the horrors of his people onto the Colonials backs. If she did not like him before, she truly hated him now.

"There's more than one. There is a whole slew of them who sometimes cooperate. In this case, they are trying to negotiate to divert more of the other aliens' ships to fight off the Cylons."

Both Zarek and Roslin gave him an incredulous stare. Roslin was flummoxed.

"Let's take a break," Roslin stood up and marched out to her bathroom to collect herself in private. With the water running to cover the sounds, Laura got sick from the cancer treatments and the emotions. In private, she wept for her people.

* * *

**Dakara**

Teal'c stood before the Jaffa High Council, surveying each face. He knew the players. He didn't like most of them. In the past, he had done battle with several. After spending so many years with the humans of the Tau'ri, Teal'c thought they were a bunch of squabbling children, nasty dangerous, and intransigent. At the moment, they were engaged in what O'Neill liked to term, 'crazy making.' They were twisting reality to suit their version of events, which would keep each member in power and advance one particular sect over another. Regardless of the truth, they squabbled.

"Hear me, Jaffa," Teal'c thundered. Heads turned back to him. "No matter what you have endured before, there is nothing like what is to come. This enemy does not care that you are Jaffa not human. They do not distinguish between noncombatants and our forces. They are worse than the Replicators are. They are called Cylons, machines inside organic bodies. You can kill them and they return. You can burn them and they return. You can blow up their ships and they return. Our weapons, the Tau'ri weapons, the Wraith weapons, and the Asgard weapons are of no use unless we can kill them all. You can not afford to fight amongst yourselves."

"Teal'c is right," Bra'tac took up the charge. "We have never met the like of this enemy. They are machines, which can download and upload into more bodies, retaining all their memories. They share those memories. They build immense ships that are organic and can heal themselves. We have never faced such a threat. If you do not unite, we are extinct."

"We still have the threats in this galaxy, brothers." One of the more moderate members stood up to take the floor. "Even if we grant you the severity of the problem, what do you expect us to do about what faces us here?"

"Form an alliance with our Tau'ri friends…"

"The Tau'ri are weak. They may want to help at times, but only the Jaffa can defend the Jaffa."

At that moment, Thor's hologram appeared in the center of the circle. He sat in his console chair gazing back at the council. The stone walls in the immense chamber dimmed into the background as the light from Thor's hologram provided his image. Shouts of dismay rang out.

"What is this intrusion?" The leader of the council challenged the glowing figure.

"I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. Greetings from the Asgard High Council to the Jaffa High Council," Thor's large black eyes in the enormous head swiveled to the speaker, dressed in long robes, as were they all. The Jaffa knew to fear the Asgard since their former masters the Goa'uld did fear them. Most had never seen one. To see him glowing as a hologram intimidated them. The Jaffa leader quickly regained his composure to signal his strength.

"Greetings, Supreme Commander Thor," he made the head nod. "Normally, we would not permit a non-Jaffa to address the council…however, we welcome the mighty Asgard."

"It is well you do," Thor said quietly yet firmly. Such a tone put fear into the Council. Looking around at them, he addressed Teal'c and Bra'tac. "Greetings Teal'c and Master Bra'tac."

"Greetings, Thor," both men smiled and gave a head nod back. To be recognized as individuals by an Asgard was a powerful sign of prestige. No doubt, Thor knew it too.

"I sent Teal'c to inform you of the serious nature of the threat to this galaxy."

"Yes, he has informed the Council, Supreme Commander."

"What is your answer?"

"We, um, understand the threat, but we are still concerned about the other enemies in this galaxy. Will the mighty Asgard help us here?"

"We can promise you what support we can, having to face the immediate problem in Pegasus. We prefer that you assist us here and there."

"We realize that the first battle will take place there. However, if you can not stop them there what hope do we have here?"

"You refuse?"

"We will fight to the death with honor." He nodded to Thor. "We only make inquiries now, while you are here."

"If you agree to the alliance, you may receive other technical help providing we believe you are sincere." Thor narrowed his eyes and looked at each face. He hissed, "The Asgard do not lightly make this offer. If we find treachery…"

"Supreme Commander, we are honorable warriors. We are not the vile treacherous Goa'uld." The leader huffed and preened to assert his authority to negotiate. "Before we can commit the resources we have to defend ourselves, we need the most vital resource to sustain us… more symbiotes."

Most of the Jaffa distrusted the new medicine. They thought it robbed them of their bodies' strength and made them dependent on the humans and the Tok'ra. Only one manufacturing facility had been completed. Few knew how to operate it. They all wanted a fresh supply of symbiotes, not medicine.

"You will be provided Tretonin manufacturing facilities, only." Thor said it firmly so there would be no doubt that symbiotes were not an option. Restless movement indicated the council was not happy with that offer.

"Many of our ranks will not accept this Tau'ri medicine."

"That is unfortunate," Thor said without inflection.

"Yes, it is unfortunate for the Alliance. Many Jaffa will not commit to battle without knowing they have replacement symbiotes available. Besides, we cannot travel to another galaxy unless you take us. Which brings us to the question," he paused for effect, "why do the mighty Asgard need our help?"

* * *

**Tok'ra Base**

High Councilor Perseus sat in conference with Garshaw deep in the crystalline tunnels of their base. Leaning on the hard surface, Garshaw pondered the request. Perseus knew she gave wise council and knew how to deal with the humans of the Tau'ri. Perseus' one trip there ended in a shootout with one of the Tok'ra turned into an assassins zatarc. Goa'uld programming compromised Martouf/Lantash even they didn't know was there. The objective had been to thwart the budding alliance. Samantha Carter delivered the killing zat blast to her friend before he could kill himself horribly. She mourned him for years.

Now, the Tau'ri were asking for the Tok'ra help again. Few in numbers after the Goa'uld wars, they were reluctant to get involved. To do so meant risking what few Tok'ra remained alive. If what the Tau'ri said about these organic robots was true, ultimately, they would come after the Tok'ra, too. If they eradicated the humans, the Tok'ra would lose their preferred form of host body. At this late date, few Tok'ra could blend with a non-human species. Both council members knew they were between a rock and a hard place.

"Perseus, no matter how this happened, we must provide at a minimum technical assistance. It is far better for them to die in battle than us. They can reproduce by the billions whereas we still have not found a Queen to spawn the next generation of Tok'ra. Let us give them the crystal technology and be available to their scientists. Perhaps we can find a way to give the organic forms a virus that will wipe them out."

"Your words are wise, Garshaw. I had already considered giving our technical support. However, I fear that a virus would only delay the inevitable. If they have consciousnesses in storage and still have the tissue samples to generate more clone bodies, then a virus only stops one generation of organic robots. They still have the purely mechanical variety to re-start the cloning all over again. No, we have to think deeper. We must devise something to eradicate the units that create the organic forms as well as the mechanical. Let the Tau'ri and the Asgaard find the means to deliver the weapon. Put all our scientists and best minds into the problem."

"At once, Perseus," Garshaw hesitated to add, "you know we do owe them."

"I know. However, they owe us as well. In fact, they have been slow of late to provide hosts."

"I was thinking about that problem."

"Go on."

"What if the Asgard were to clone us? They have the means but have never been willing to share it. We are dying out. We have no Queen to produce more of us. Perhaps, the Asgard will clone Egeria or even each of us? Ta'seem thinks it is possible."

"An interesting notion," Perseus admitted. "I shall take up the matter with Thor. It would help if we had something to solve this situation as a bargaining chip."

"Then we need samples of the organic robots and schematics of their design. It would help to see a working model. I would be interested to study the organic ships." Garshaw smiled her knowing smile and rose to implement his commands. "Let us hope O'Neill will not obstruct our cloning requests. He still finds our form to be an abomination, especially after the disastrous blending with Kanan."

"Well then, Garshaw, your part in this effort is to make certain he helps us. I shall make an effort to meet with O'Neill's leaders. They must allow us access to Atlantis. They must be willing to pay the price."

* * *

**Atlantis**

"Wait up, McKay," John Sheppard called out. McKay didn't bother to turn or look up from his Pad. He just kept walking expecting Sheppard to catch up.

"What?"

"You need to turn in your report on the trip to Chulak. The General is on my case about it. He needs it for Woolsey."

"Yes, well he can have it in between my saving the galaxy and inputting these changes to the Asgard modifications to the …"

"McKay, we have a situation."

"We always have a situation. My life is one big situation," McKay turned a corner, speeding up. "My report won't change the snafu around here. How do they expect me to modify Asgard tech to our tech to Colonial antiquated tech in a matter of days? Oh, right, because _**I am the resident genius.**_"

"Fine Rodney, you can explain it to the General then," Sheppard stuck a finger at him. "I wouldn't want to be you today if you don't write that report."

"You couldn't be me today or any other day, Sheppard. The General will have to wait. Now go tell him. Run along," McKay didn't pick his nose up from the schematics on the Pad. "Well, why are you still hanging around? It's not as if you could do any of this, which won't get done if people keep pestering me about reports."

"Just multi-task McKay," Sheppard fumed.

"Gee now why didn't I think of that? Oh right because I was working on six problems simultaneously, I didn't remember to **multi-task.**" A technician walked up to McKay bringing something to him. "No, no, no, don't you people ever THINK? Where do they get these people? I said to cross route the circuits here to there. Do you think you can find your way back to your desk or do I have to lead you there myself?" The technician slunk away.

"Always your charming self, Rodney. One of these days, one of them will take a swing at you."

"A few already did." He seemed unconcerned.

"Did you report it?"

"Of course, they were sent back to Earth immediately."

"Is that why you had the black eye a few weeks ago?"

"If you can't be productive, go away."

"You know, Ronon has offered to teach you hand to hand."

"Right, I'll leave beating people's brains out to Conan and Zena."

"It would be good for you to try. Teyla would take it easy on you at first whereas Ronon goes straight for the kill." Sheppard winced at the memory.

"I had level one hand to hand back on Earth. Now, **go** away." Rodney shut the door to his lab in Sheppard's face.

Sheppard used his headset to call the General's aide. "Sorry, Tom he doesn't have time to do it himself. Send a secretary to take the dictation." He clicked off. _Well that won't be pretty._

"John," Teyla commed him. "They need you in the holding area. Chief Tyrol is unsettled." It was Teyla's understated way to say Tyrol was freaking out.

"Can't Dr. Heightmeyer deal with it? I'm busy." Sheppard referred to the resident psychiatrist.

"She is the one who is asking for you."

"Why?" Sheppard continued down the corridors until he found a city transporter.

"You are the only one available who has talked with the Ancestors."

"Teyla, we have a meeting with the Genii in an hour. I don't have time for this."

"Ladim will understand, John. Besides, he will meet with Mr. Woolsey first."

"Has Tyrol seen the Library?"

The Library of the Ancients had an interactive holographic feature to answer questions. O'Neill ordered a showing for the Colonials to let them in on some of the information. Adama had been impressed although he had been pissed, too. Each of the 'gods' were in the database. Daniel called up each image with biography. Then he produced the Colonial's galaxy and images of Kobol in its heyday. When Daniel produced the logs of some of the Ancients who did the exploring and settling of the colonists, Tyrol broke down. He thought it was a fake. Adama did not. He also understood why Tyrol and others would.

"Yes, John. He became most disturbed while in there."

"Fine, I'm almost there. Sheppard out."


	16. Chapter 16: Blessed Are The Meek

**Chapter 16: Blessed Are The Meek**

**Atlantis: Library Room of the Ancients**

"Chief Tyrol, you must control yourself or we will be forced to confine you," the security officer drew his zat. They stood in the "Library" on Atlantis where a team tried to brief the small party of Colonials about the nature of General O'Neill and Dr. Jackson. To say they weren't appreciative defied description.

"You're lucky we aren't Geminons," Tyrol fumed. "I'm the son of a priest and an oracle; but I am more tolerant than most. However, this blaspheme will not be tolerated."

"If you don't want to be frightened, don't ask scary questions," Sheppard quipped.

"Sir, please stand down." Teyla used a firm and direct manner which wasn't working. "Colonel Sheppard has spoken directly to the Ancients. You may ask him your questions. Dr. Jackson and General O'Neill are not available at this time."

What will it take thought Lt. Colonel John Sheppard standing in the room irritated at the standoff.

"We are having a difference of opinion," Teyla informed Sheppard. "On the nature of the Colonial's conclusions about the General and Dr. Jackson."

"A difference of opinion," sputtered Galen Tyrol. "I was there. I saw the dead come back to life. You weren't."

"Well, that can be explained, Chief," Sheppard said evenly.

"I heard the explanation, Colonel. I realize you are an unbeliever but what I can't understand is why. You live and work with the Divinities. Why would they tolerate your insolence? Why would they want to hide themselves when they act in plain view? No, you have explained nothing."

"I was dead," one of the other Colonial's weighed in. "I know what I know. I was dead. I am alive by the command of the Gods. Blessed is the name of O'Neill."

"Blessed is the name of O'Neill." The chorus of voices echoed.

* * *

**Atlantis Control Room**

The Stargate activated. Control room personnel listened to the radio transmission from the Genii before lowering the shield. Six soldiers passed into the floor of the chamber. Atlantis security remained on alert considering the inconsistent relations between the two groups. However, none of the Genii drew their weapons, this time.

"Welcome to Atlantis," Colonel Carter offered her hand to the new Genii leader, Ladon Radim. "I'm Colonel Samantha Carter."

"A pleasure to meet you, Colonel," Radim offered his salutation, according to the Atlanteans customs. He noticed she was a beautiful woman in her late thirties. Many of these people were exceptionally attractive. This one had something extra. He made eye contact and saw a military person staring back. Oh well, perhaps in time a more personal alliance could be forged.

"Likewise," Carter answered professionally also noticing his interest. "We have prepared a briefing for you with our civilian representative and then we would like to introduce you to our new allies."

"We are most intrigued, Colonel. Your invitation said we have a new enemy as well."

"Yes, that's why we want to brief you quickly."

"The Genii appreciate the new cooperative spirit between our two peoples."

"We feel the same," Carter gestured for him to follow her up the stairs to the office levels for his meeting with Richard Woolsey the I.O.A. representative.

"As the Genii are the most advanced human society in the Pegasus Galaxy, the I.O.A. would like to extend a formal offer of alliance," Woolsey concluded after his opening welcome.

"Well now, that's nice," Radim responded, realizing for once that they might be in an advantageous negotiating position. "And for this alliance, what could the Genii expect to be privileged to know?"

"In exchange for allowing us to establish a base on your planet, we would allow your personnel a presence and your technical people training on some of the equipment as part of a joint operation."

"Why would the Genii allow a foreign presence on our planet?"

"Because if you don't, you'll all die," General O'Neill interrupted. "I'm not kidding. This enemy is so bad they will overrun your current defenses. We can help stop that."

"A bold statement, General," Radim seemed to consider it. "So what do you expect to gain from this base besides the ability to spy on us?"

"Actually, we already have that capability." O'Neill let that thought settle in. "In fact, I know what you had for breakfast, some sort of hot cereal called doodah and fruit with hot herbal tea. You really could use some sugar on that stuff."

"And you are revealing this why?" Radim answered without batting an eyelash. His astronomers had detected the artificial satellite in orbit months ago.

"To let you know we are serious. We put a complete orbital satellite system around your planet to watch you until the cows come home. But we are on the clock. So, what do you say?"

"I say that you have a lot of nerve." Radim chuckled, "Because if you really could do all that, what purpose would a base serve?"

"It would serve to make your nuclear capabilities leap into comparatively modern science. We want what fissionable materials you can produce. In exchange, we shall provide you modern facilities to make it."

"Now why would you want us to rival you?"

"What makes you think that alone would be enough?"

"We could nuke your facility."

"You could and we could nuke your planet." O'Neill sighed. "Look, I'd love to trade threats with you all day, but," he checked his watch. "I have a date."

With that he disappeared in a flash of bright white light. Radim blinked. Carter shrugged and looked at Woolsey to continue.

"What the General so colorfully said is that we have a common enemy which will require all the resources at our disposal to defeat them. They will make no distinction between you or us. They hate all humans. The Wraith want humans for food. The Cylons want to exterminate us. Every nuclear weapon you can complete makes all of us stronger. We can provide the expertise to make your production and your mining of uranium efficient. In return we shall put defenses on your planet and above. We are offering to teach you how to use these facilities. We also want to coordinate our defensive plans. Now, we can leave you to your fate, or you can cooperate."

"And you can demonstrate the nature of this threat is that great?"

"We can. If you are able to agree to these terms, we shall introduce you to our allies and provide you a complete briefing on the nature of the Cylon threat."

"Mr. Woolsey, I must say that you have been incredibly direct. Normally such matters require many meetings and long negotiations. You must be desperate or you would not offer so much to a former enemy."

"We never wanted to be the enemy of the Genii," Sheppard answered. "Things got out of hand because of two men who are long gone."

"Perhaps," Radim was not sure. "How many nukes do you want and how fast?"

"All you can make… yesterday," Woolsey admitted.

* * *

**Thor's Ship: **_O'Neill II_

"Greetings Councilor Garshaw," Kvasir welcomed the Tok'ra representative with her entourage. "Greetings, General O'Neill."

Garshaw bowed her head in greeting. "We are honored to participate in this great endeavor. The Tok'ra High Council sends their good wishes for a long and happy alliance."

O'Neill frowned before recognizing Garshaw, whom he basically liked as an individual or set of individuals to put a finer point on it. As for the rest of the Tok'ra, he decided he wouldn't miss them except they occasionally proved useful, quite a switch of circumstances from the initial encounter.

"General O'Neill," Garshaw made a head nod toward him. O'Neill managed one small one back. "We are delighted you are here to facilitate this effort."

"Yeah well backatcha," he stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "So where's the package?"

"We have the robot in stasis down in the laboratory, O'Neill. Our scientists have arrived who have worked on the subject for the past few months."

"What is the condition of the robot? Garshaw asked motioning the Tok'ra to gather up their equipment.

"It is undamaged."

"Excellent, then may we proceed?"

"Be warned, although it appears to be human, it is a robot in an organic matrix. Do you wish to observe, O'Neill?"

"Yeah, I'd like to have a look see."

"There is an overhead observation position."

Kvasir pointed to the glass enclosed seating area above. O'Neill and his aides went up to observe. Other Asgard floated an upright container with a clear cover into the examination room. Inside was a human form Cylon. The cover removed. Garshaw's scientists approached cautiously, but it was not activated. They proceeded to make an initial examination and removed the unit to a table.

"Whoa!" O'Neill exclaimed realizing the thing was a naked female Cylon. "No one said they'd be anatomically correct." He winced.

"You knew that one gave birth, O'Neill. What did you think?"

"I didn't need that mental image. I'm just saying."

Garshaw smiled at him knowing the Tau'ri had such peculiar inhibitions. "It's a machine, General."

"I know that," he gestured with distaste at the robot on the table. "I assumed it did it differently, opened a trap door or something..."

"Considering the advancements in design, many applications might be attempted."

"Like what?"

"We can experiment on medicines and surgical procedures, adjusting for the differences. Such a construction might yet prove beneficial."

"They want to breed with us. I don't get that. Why?"

"We have read the reports and are as curious as you are. We hope these tests will yield such answers or at least some very good clues. The results might help us all."

"There is some concern that by breeding with humans, they might construct a new life form," answered Lt. Colonel Cam Mitchell, acting as O'Neill's aide.

"I don't want to hear that. They are not alive. Get that through your heads." O'Neill turned on Garshaw. "We've been down this road before. Don't lose sight of the fact it's a machine. Human-form Replicators look like us. They aren't us and never will be. Stick a Replicator in a steak and it's still a Replicator."

"A colorful analogy General," Garshaw agreed. "Still the organic components are capable of cellular mitosis."

"They have bad breath?"

"Mitosis not halitosis, General," Mitchell informed him. Jack shot him a look. He knew perfectly well the difference. "Sorry, sir," Mitchell stepped back.

Not wanting to offend O'Neill, Garshaw focused her efforts at appeasing him, her true reason for being present. She spoke about the diminishing numbers of Tok'ra and how they were trying to establish permanent settlements but the Goa'uld still existed and were bent on revenge. O'Neill listened. He didn't care personally. He did care very much as an official of his government.

"General, from the reports the Asgard provided, there is a clear set of complex programming at the atomic level. Compared to our crystal technology it is crude. Yet, the results are before us. Are your people able to detect such programming code yet?"

"Carter?"

"We have begun to work with programming at the particle level. We focused some of our efforts on using protons to carry base code. We have used molecules successfully for several years now. With the help of the Tok'ra and the Asgard we are acquiring the ability to store data on crystals in simple strings of ones and zeros." Sam knew she couldn't discuss the new sciences provided by the Atlantis computer library, which was the single greatest treasure of the four races. "In fact, we have working machines which can only be seen through electron microscopes. Providing lubrication by the atom to movable parts is a new breakthrough. We aspirate the lubricant and use the gas to deposit a thin film only one molecule's thickness at the exact spot required…"

"Blinding us with science, Carter," Jack intoned to stop her. "They know about it."

"Yes, sir."

"How very intriguing Colonel Carter," Garshaw said with sufficient enthusiasm in her voice to show her good will. "We are delighted that our Tau'ri allies have come so far in the few years we have known each other. Perhaps, you would like to send some representatives to our tunnel making teams for an overview."

"Yes, ma'am, that would be exciting."

"Tunnel growing, you sure know how to have fun, Carter."

"Yes sir."

"You go girl."

"You are certainly welcome to join the fun, General."

"Thanks Garshaw, but my kind of fun is sitting by a pond in Minnesota and popping a cold one, while fishing for the ever elusive crappie. Say, would you like to come fishing when this is all over?"

"As intriguing an idea as that is, General, my duties require most of my time."

"Yes, such a shame." He said eyeing her, carefully. "You know why the Goa'uld wanted to take over Earth?" She shook her head. "They wanted Minnesota. You know the call of the loons…"

Carter and Mitchell did manage to stifle themselves.

* * *

**Cylon Base Star**

A Leoben stared at the data stream. By all indications, God smiled upon the Cylons this day. After receiving the transmission from so far away, the news could only be called a miracle. Therefore, the Base Star and its compliment assimilated the information from the New Mind. Instantly, machines all through the Fleet began to adapt the designs to the needs of the Cylon Empire. First the smaller jump capable ships integrated the new transgalactic engines. Then new nanobots re-worked the organic cells and their control matrices to accommodate the new knowledge. This time, the human scourge would be controlled for the benefit of all Cylons, or be exterminated. Then the Fleet would secure the new territory and unleash the reproductive capabilities so far held in reserve for a time when the Cylon seed could take root throughout the Universe.

What they didn't know was that part of the New Mind was still resident in the upload directory. It directed the creation of a thirteenth Cylon Model beneath the workings of the interlinked central control. Even as the Fleet sped onward to its destination, the New Mind worked to create a vehicle for its ultimate realization.

A Simon model entered to join the Leoben. As he too studied the data stream, his hands went to work with lightening speed. Normally presented as a doctor of great compassion, this model had met Kara in the hospital on Caprica when he told her the best thing she could do for the human race was have babies. He meant that literally, because he ran a baby-making farm to crossbreed Cylons with humans. In fact, he removed one of Kara's ovaries to further that mission.

A Doral model walked in to observe. Along with Leoben, he studied the stream. A frown crossed his visage. Doral appeared to be a normal mid-sized man in his mid-thirties. He was non-descript in appearance until you caught the look in his eyes when he wasn't feigning affability. The Dorals had an even tempered steady disposition unless they tried to persuade humans they were human. They could act with all the desperate frustration of someone unable to convince another of the truth of their humanity. Then they could switch in an instant to lethal killer.

Brother Cavil models were a clear contrast to the Dorals. Cavils were older men who professed to be a religious minister of the gods. When that didn't work they endlessly discussed their one god. The Cylon religion was monotheistic while the Colonists had many gods consistent with the Greek pantheon. Who this Cylon god really was, or, if it existed; was not clear. Yet the Cavils could spout any scripture and then switch in the blink of an eye to demand the extermination of the very souls they professed to want to save. Hedonistic and sadistic, Cavils liked to manipulate their victims for their own pleasure before killing them. By the time a Cavil entered the control room, the Doral, the Simon, and the Leoben were frantically at work.

"Call D'anna and Six. Something is wrong," they said as one.

**

* * *

****Nox World**

"Lya!" Sam greeted the Nox woman she had met so many times before. Lya smiled the wordless welcome with grace and dignity. Slight and frail in appearance, Lya possessed great knowledge and wisdom. Her unprepossessing form belied her true abilities. Sam knew those abilities were many and powerful. Yet the Nox were a peaceful people skilled in illusion and non-violent defenses. Introductions and greetings made at the Stargate, the conversation began concerning the Cylon threat.

"We have received your request. The Elders have agreed to consider your need as urgent. Yet we are unable to render a judgment before we have examined this new entity."

"We assure you that their capabilities are tremendous and their intent is to wipe out all sentient beings," Selmak answered with deep respect.

"We do not doubt your sincerity. That is why we agree to travel to the Asgard. We shall examine the subjects you have available. The Nox have concerns that must be satisfied first."

"Of course, you think they might be living sentient beings. We had considered that possibility. However, the Asgard disagree."

"While we respect the Asgard, we must decide for ourselves."

"We are grateful for the opportunity," Selmak nodded to her. Jacob took over. "Well, if you are ready, ma'am?"

Lya motioned with her hand and the Stargate activated without the usual vortex. Stepping through, they arrived on Thor's Ship, the _O'Neill II_. Once in the laboratory, Lya greeted everyone. Jack stood up. He had deep respect for the Nox and especially Lya. She had come through for them many times. Once she intervened to save the Tollan going so far as to shield a Tollan ion canon. She went up to the line of violence by interfering but did not pull the trigger. It was a fine line, which no Nox would ever cross…violence toward other living things.

"Lya, ma'am, glad to see you."

"And you O'Neill," she nodded speaking softly with a gentle smile. "Is this the Cylon who gave birth?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jack saw her walk toward the robot. "I'd be mighty careful, ma'am."

He moved to her side and directed the other SGC personnel to cover them. He was not going to jeopardize Lya for any…thing… no matter how it managed to simulate the functioning of a biological life form. In Jack's mind, that was a robot, a very sophisticated robot, but still just a machine.

Lya moved her hand across the prone form of the robot. Closing her eyes, she concentrated. Jack wondered what instruments or tools were involved that none of them could see. The Nox carefully concealed their technology, never letting outsiders detect it. Opening her eyes, Lya asked for the robot to be activated. The Asgard scurried to comply. Jack noticed the haste the simple request engendered in the little Roswell Greys. Then it hit him. They deferred to the Nox! Hardly a glance was exchanged between him and Carter but they understood each other immediately. This news was big! A beam activated over the supine robot. The eyes opened. It tried to sit up. However, the Asgard had not activated the restraining collar for movement; so all it could do was to stare up at them. Lya moved around to gain a better view. Then she touched it. The eyes blinked and flashed anger back at them. Lya shuddered, snatching back her hand.

"Permit the voice activation."

"Release me! I am Lt. Sharon Agathon, call sign Athena, of the Colonial Fleet. How dare you treat me like this!"

"You will answer our questions," the Asgard at the control panel intoned impassively. He had heard the diatribe many times before.

"Frak you!"

"Hey, hey, hey, watch the language missy!" Jack towered over her in his scary command persona.

"Frak you and the horse you rode in on," she spat back at him. "Address me with respect."

Jack's face contained all the menace he decided to let it see so it would know the situation was serious. "I'm not the Asgard. I don't play nice. So answer the questions." Athena knew he meant business. Still the programming kicked in.

"When Admiral Adama finds out what you are doing, he will courts martial you."

"Who, another Cylon?" Jack didn't want her to know anything. When the Asgard arrived at the Fleet for the first contact, they immediately removed the Cylons among the Colonists, indiscriminately. Athena didn't know about O'Neill. She didn't know about Atlantis. Thinking he was just another human, Athena assumed he was part of the Fleet. Jack let her.

"Where is Adama? Where is my husband?"

"This Admiral is your husband?"

"No, gods curse you," she panted. "Lt. Commander Karl Agathon is my husband. What have you done to him?"

"So there's another Cylon besides this Adama?"

"No, they aren't Cylons. They are humans."

"Now that is kinky."

"Kinky? My hair is not kinky."

"No, but 'frakking' you is very kinky. I've heard of blowup rubber dolls but this takes the prize."

Athena went nuts. She screamed curses. She ranted that he would die when the Admiral got wind of this treatment of one of his officers by a rogue posing as an officer. She demanded to know about her baby. She threatened him with everything she knew.

Jack stared at it impassively noting how the cycle of the program ran its course.

Jack nodded to his aide. They came in with the infant Cylon-human hybrid, Hera Agathon.

"This yours?"

"My baby! Give me my baby!"

"Baby? All I see is another Cylon. What baby?" Jack snarled. "You aren't dealing with a bunch of Colonials you've bamboozled. So get this through your programming. You are with people, who don't take kindly to your mission. So, if you really do have any feelings, answer the question, or that," he indicated the small Cylon, "goes out the airlock with the other garbage."

Carter blinked. She knew Jack could interrogate prisoners. She just hadn't seen him do it much. After all, when the Entity inhabited her, she wasn't aware of what he threatened to do to the Entity's world, offering to send wave after wave of probes to destroy them if it didn't get out of her. She also didn't know Hammond had backed up Jack one hundred percent. However, Carter was a consummate professional who knew better than to contradict a superior officer in the midst of an interrogation, especially considering what was at stake. He hadn't asked her to play good cop bad cop. No doubt about it, Jack was playing for keeps.


	17. Chapter 17: The Crucible

**Chapter17 : The Crucible**

**Jumper Bay on the USS Apollo**

* * *

Turn it on when I say," McKay commanded. "OW! WHEN… I …SAY!"

"Sorry."

"You enjoyed that."

"No, I didn't, sorry." Said Zelenka.

"How much longer McKay?" Sheppard demanded.

"Do you come in here just to distract me or do you want me to finish?"

"Just give me an estimate."

"This problem makes string theory look like wiring a fuse box."

"Okay, I get it, one in a million chance, yada yada yada."

Are you ready?

"Yes."

"I only ask because you were less than definitive in your answer."

"Radek!"

"Okay, good."

Remember no wild parties while we are gone," Sheppard launched the PJ. "Is it online?"

"Did I mention this might not work? I mean we could spin out of control or disintegrate or blow up and burn out our power…"

"Just answer the damn question."

"Yeah, were ready."

"Okay, we activate the commands on a delay timer."

"No, we have to access their computer core from a field wide enough to encompass the jumper and the core room.

"Plug and play you think it's that simple."

"You are going to make it that simple."

"You need me to deal with the unexpected which you wouldn't know was the unexpected but I would."

If I don't calculate the power output precisely we could incinerate the moment the hyperspace window opens."

"It never ends with you," Sheppard snarked. "Buckle up we're going in."

Colonel Ellis on the Apollo opened a channel. "Ease up on the angle, Sheppard. We're coming in too steep. PULL UP!"

Deep sighs of relief punctuated the crew of the Apollo as the jumper corrected course just in time. Colonel Ellis told Sheppard, "They don't see you. We have two more Basestars that just jumped in. Plant the device and go."

"Rodger that."

"Just like the military," Rodney huffed. "They think because they gave a command, everyone can just do what is necessary at the drop of a hat."

"We hire the people who can do it at the drop of a hat, McKay or can't you do it faster?" Sheppard checked the H.U.D. to get his flight path and dropped in towards the Cylon Basestar. Cloaked, the Jumper made it undetected. McKay and Ronon had on their EVA suits. The technician made sure the seals were in hermetic. Everyone else gathered in the forward compartment with the co-pilot. Once the doors were sealed between fore and aft sections, Sheppard decompressed the cabin and opened the rear hatch. Rodney held the Life Signs Detector while Ronon had a big blaster.

"So far so good," Rodney reported looking skeptically at Ronon, who cocked an eyebrow at him. "After you, after all…" Ronon simply barreled out ready for anything.

"All clear, McKay," Ronon reported. Sheppard confirmed it. "Do your thing and let's get out of here."

Rodney walked over to the nearest biomechanical junction he could discern. He felt the tissue for a place but couldn't figure out what that could be.

"Here goes nothing." He plunged the oversized hypodermic into the tissue and depressed the plunger. Then he attached his device right into the flesh. "Readings, we're getting readings." He frantically read what passed on the screen.

"What's it say, McKay?" Sheppard asked over the com system.

"It's gibberish."

"What do you mean it's gibberish?"

"I didn't think pseudo-random output would sway you." Rodney attached something else and played with the controls. "No good, I can't interface properly."

"Rodney," Zelenka called out. "We've been detected. Plant the bomb and let's go."

"I've got an idea!"

"Too late McKay, I'm pulling the plug on this one. Get back to the ship."

"Just…just…just… oh boy!" McKay heard Ronan blasting away around the corner. Quickly he unplugged the equipment and ran as Ronon came around facing forward.

"Run!"

Both men ran for their lives back to the ship. Two large chrome Cylon Centurions came around the corner blasting away from their hands. Ronon managed to hit one right between the red eye. McKay managed to lob a grenade. It had no effect. But they did get back to the ship. Just as the hatch closed, a Cylon metal hand held back the door. Sheppard had no choice. He sent a drone to deal with the giant Cylon Centurion as others were rounding the bend. The hatch couldn't close properly, so Rodney and Ronon had to hold on, hoping they wouldn't be spewed out as the Jumper took flight.

"It's like riding in an open truck bed," McKay exclaimed. He managed to attach the seat belt as Ronon did the same. Both men saw open space behind them as the ship tried to make it to the Apollo. At that moment, the Basestar launched its fighters.

"We have bogeys!" Sheppard said over the headset to the Apollo. "I count an even dozen."

"Is that a dozen dozen or a baker's dozen," Rodney asked in a panic?

"Shut up McKay."

"Oh right …HE'S concentrating now." Just as a Cylon fighter locked on, Sheppard made it to the shields of the Apollo. The Cylon fighter smashed into the shield and disintegrated. Two more did the same thing.

"Shields holding," Major Gant reported.

"That's interesting," McKay said as he felt the ship barely rock with the multiple impacts. He could hear some of the chatter over his headset. "I've got an idea."

**

* * *

Thor's Ship **_**the O'Neill II**_

"So what are you _saying_?" O'Neill asked in irritation. He was standing outside the holding chamber with Lya from the Nox, Thor, Garshaw the Tok'ra, Teal'c for the Jaffa, and Woolsey from the IOA.

"The Nox will not kill," Lya said simply. "However, we can be of assistance should you be attacked. Our illusions can be used to shield various items. However, these machines are not life as you understand it. However, there is a consciousness that I can sense. It troubles me."

"Why?"

"I do not sense the consciousness from within."

"That's cryptic."

"Lya, are you saying the consciousness is somewhere else but not in the body?" Colonel Samantha Carter asked respectfully.

"Yes."

"Is it being transmitted somehow?"

"I don't know. It is present."

"And so therefore, what Carter?" Jack was losing patience and knew he had to keep it if the Nox were to help.

"I'm not sure, sir."

"Recommendations?"

"Not yet, sir."

"If I may," Garshaw interposed. "Whether the thing has an interior or exterior consciousness may have a bearing on how we fight all of them. We must find the consciousness to determine how it is linked to the rest. If we find that point, we can adopt a plan to neutralize it and then neutralize all the Cylons."

"You mean reprogram the Cylons?"

"If it can be done, possibly," Garshaw conceded. "However, we can not lose sight of the opportunity to destroy them while they don't know our capabilities."

"We have already attempted to reprogram the specimens." The little Roswell Grey shook his head. "We have been unsuccessful."

"Then we must destroy them with every means available," the Teal'c answered. "What progress on the Replicators?"

"We have identified sections of the Ancient's Library on Atlantis that deals with the base code. We are attempting to re-write it so they will attack the Wraith. It is their original purpose anyway."

"Great, we sic the Replicators on the Wraith to keep them busy. The Wraith are fighting each other, but just might… and I say might get together to fight the Replicators. Now we are trying to what with the Cylons?"

"We are trying to find an organic weakness to infect their biocircuitry," Garshaw explained to Jack.

"How's that coming? Faster than fighting the Goa'uld?" Jack referred to the two thousand year struggle which only ended recently once the humans became a factor.

"We are making every effort," Garshaw said with some pique.

"Right, like the effort you folks are trying to make with the Asgard?"

"What effort is that?"

"Oh puh-leeze, you want their cloning technology."

Garshaw turned on Thor in anger. "We were discussing this in private."

"Apparently not," Jack answered. "Oh and he didn't tell me."

"Then how?"

"Well let's just say I keep my ear to the ground."

"Do you not get dirt in it O'Neill?" Thor asked without blinking.

"No but I hear the dirt. Look, we can't poison the Cylons or the Wraith fast enough either through programming or viruses. Oh we could get the organic Cylons but that leaves the chrome jobs. We can possibly reprogram the Replicators, but no one has a clue about the downside. Does anyone have a really GOOD idea?"

"Well sir, we know Dr. Beckett's retrovirus can be delivered in a Wraith ship and will turn the crew into humans even for a time."

"We also know it is extremely difficult to get access to the central air supply to do it."

"Has anyone taken a census of the Wraith recently?" Garshaw asked.

"Their numbers are down since their civil war began but there are so many of them."

"Indeed." Teal'c raised an eyebrow at Carter. "Then we should find out how many and where they are located."

"To do what, T?"

"To formulate a battle plan and deliver this …retrovirus."

"There's that," Jack paused.

"Sir, we know that a group of humans developed a partially successful inoculation against Wraith feeding chemicals. However there is a 50 percent mortality rate on the humans. Thor, do you think you could figure out a better version?"

"Deliver us the vaccine and we shall try."

"And how long is that going to take," Jack asked?

"Unknown, O'Neill."

"The Tok'ra would be happy to assist."

"So we have two potential avenues back on the Wraith but more long term. We still haven't figured out the Cylons."

"We spoke with Admiral Adama's engineers," Carter began. "They tell us the Cylons use the same conventional nukes the Colonials do."

"They did," Thor interrupted. "Since the downloading of an Asgard consciousness, they have upgraded their capabilities."

Everyone groaned.

"Okay, Carter, you find out from Thor how bad it is. Teal'c, you're with me. Garshaw, a pleasure as always." He frowned. "Lya, we are grateful for your support." She gave a short bow of her head to him. "Okay, I'm taking the baby-making Cylon with me. Thor, stay in touch."

**

* * *

The USS Apollo**

"Will you look at that!" Sheppard exclaimed. "Better than the Fourth of July."

The Cylon Basestar exploded into smithereens. Cheers broke out on the bridge. However, Rodney McKay was chewing his bottom lip while frantically doing something to a tablet computer.

"It didn't do any good," McKay announced.

"What do you mean? It exploded," Sheppard argued.

"And every single Cylon in there uploaded to the Resurrection ship. Now they know what we did to them." Rodney moved forward to stand before the bridge crew. "I _TOLD_you this would happen. But oh, right, why listen to the scientist when you can blow something up!"

"Helm," Colonel Ellis commanded. "How far to the Resurrection Ship?"

"Twenty minutes, sir."

"Plot a course and take us there. Let Atlantis know where we are going and why. Hermiod," Ellis called over the headset to the resident Asgard crewmember.

"Here, Colonel."

"Did you complete your analysis?"

"I did. The Cylons here do not yet possess the Asgard shields."

"Is this the only Resurrection Ship in Pegasus?"

"Unlikely, but I do not detect another. However, I do detect multiple squadrons of enemy fighter craft on approach."

"All hands, this is the Captain, battle stations. Helm take us out of here."

"No, no wait," McKay contradicted. "I want to try something first. They don't have shields. Right?"

"What's your point McKay?"

"Well the laws of physics say that anything traveling that fast when it hits something will be damaged seriously. I want to throw something at one or more of those fighters. Let's see if the impact can do some damage."

"We are not here to experiment for your curiosity, Doctor."

"Actually, you are. You see I'm here to come up with these ideas and you are here to use them. There, now, pitch some garbage or something at them… a lot of garbage… a blanket of garbage. Turn the ship so you face the Cylons and eject the garbage TOWARDS them. Let them hit garbage continuously. It will be like…like…like being machine gunned."

The Colonel ordered all the garbage ejected in the path of the oncoming fighters in a wide spread. Sure enough the fighters broke apart.

"Why, what happened, McKay?"

"The carbon in the organics heats up on impact and converts to diamond dust. We grind them like logs in a sawmill. Next time, throw some peanuts at them." He looked at the stunned faces. "Okay, so I came up with a low tech solution… just shows how brilliant I really am. One peanut at 6 miles a second is the equivalent of four sticks of dynamite."

"That's good, really good, McKay. Just one question," Sheppard asked. "How come you didn't think of this sooner?"

"I don't know. Maybe my writers were on strike."


End file.
